


Vir Lath Sa'vunin

by KMFiredancer



Series: Stabilizing Force [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Child Death, Colemance, F/M, Family Loss, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Prequel, Vivienne Not Recruited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 36,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMFiredancer/pseuds/KMFiredancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Adamant, Inquisitor Era Lavellan suffers from nightmares about the loss of her family during her clan's brief stay in Ferelden. Cole helps, but the friendship they form becomes confusing to both of them-- for various reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very nervous about posting this! I'm writing a larger story that takes place after the events of the main game, and this was written as a warm-up and a way to establish the relationship before the actual story. It follows the main plot from post-Adamant to the end, following the canon aside from the relationship and a few minor changes to scenes. 
> 
> I hope people enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and all the chapters have already been written-- they are just waiting on being edited!

She's running; the cold of the rainy season's damp nights hit her as she runs through trees, caves, between rocks. _Adahlen. Adahlen. Where is he? Mythal'enaste, let him be safe_. Her protruding stomach makes running difficult, she's sore, slow, weighed down. Her legs burn from friction, her lungs from the biting cold breaths she took and her clothes are drenched, leaving her cold; wet branches scratch her face and arms as she passes through them, roots catching her feet and mud splattering against her as her feet hit the ground; her staff slams into the backs of her legs as she runs, but she refuses to let it go. The hunter who found her and told her what happened is ahead of her, looking back over his shoulder to make sure she’s still there behind him, even if the distance between them is great.

The elven woman sees pillars of smoke rise over the canopy, the shimmering leaves reflecting the red fires burning below and she hears yelling; she prays to the Creators that it’s not her clan; that her family and friends are safe and ignorant, but she knows better. The horrid screeching of halla assaults her ears and she bites back tears; the sound is terrible and sad, more prominent than the shouting of her brethren.

When her feet finally find her clan’s campground, the reality is worse than the imagined tragedy; Templars in silver, shimmering armor fill the spaces between the wreckage, angry yelling frightening the children and enraging the hunters. She sees and smells the burning wood of broken, burning aravels, most halla lay dead in front of them, those surviving screeching in mourning and fear.  Elven corpses lay amongst the wreckage, brutally cut down or shot regardless of age, and much of the grass in the area is singed or bloodied.

  _Why, Creators, why?_  The woman manages to tear her eyes from the horrific scene before her, her breath coming in bitter, wheezing puffs. Her whole body aches from cold and nature, but she can’t afford to pay it mind. Shuddering, she manages to unfreeze her limbs and frantically searches the destroyed aravels for her husband. _Where is he? Where is he? Ma vhenan, please, please..._

 Upon seeing her husband’s crumpled form not far from the Keeper’s aravel, her blood freezes in her veins. "Adahlen!" Her voice came as a raspy cry, her jellied legs almost failing her as she runs to his side. The Keeper and the remainder of her clan’s voices are drowned out by the sound of her own. She kneels next to him, taking his bloodied hands in hers. "Please, vhenan!" To her surprise, he yet lives; dull green eyes looking up into her own.

 "Era?" His voice is strangled with effort, blood flowing freely from a deep wound below his ribs; his shirt black with blood. "Ma vhenan, you have to run!" He cries desperately. "They will spare no Mage, not even the Keeper!" Era shakes her head, holding her husband’s hands for dear life. She’s shuddering and shaking as sobs bubble up from her throat.

 "I won't leave you! I can't!" Hot tears burn her cheeks as they flow freely down her face as her whole body trembled with grief. Adahlen’s face changed, contorting with fear and despair and Era briefly wondered why.

 "NO! RUN, ERA!" He practically shrieks, but she doesn’t turn; finding an intense heat in her stomach, her eyes widen before she looks down, already knowing its source. Blood seeps from the bloodstained sword protruding from her abdomen, glittering with the reflected light of the fires surrounding them. The only sound Era managed was a startled cry as she turns her head to see the face of a wizened Templar, his eyes wild with anger. She can feel her mana draining from her with her life, but with a steadying breath she brings magic to her fingertips.

The Fade crackles, snaps and pulls around her and with a gesture, she brings forth a cluster of crackling shards, each seeking their target like a pack of wolves upon a nug. She manages to smile faintly as she hears sweet sounds of clattering armor and the shrieking of electrified Templars. Her vision blurs and fades in and out as she crumples to the ground, managing to cast a final glance at her husband. He’s no longer moving; Falon’Din would come for him soon, and Era knew she would very well be next to receive his guidance into the Beyond. She can hear her clan mates yelling and footsteps rushing toward her, but like her vision her sense of sound leaves her and she is floating in mute blackness.

The fact that she accepts it is what frightens her most.

* * *

 

_Memories haunt her, hold her like chains around her neck. She’s faltering, falling to fear and pain; she runs but can’t move forward, can’t escape the cold blade that pierces her heart. A name that means dreams but she’s plagued by nightmares instead._

 Cole felt himself shiver as the memories flooded his mind and he looked toward the source of the pain, though he needn’t have done so—the Inquisitor was distinctive through all the other cries of Skyhold’s inhabitants. The Anchor drowned out most of Era’s day to day thoughts and pains unless he was close to her; it made her bright and loud in some ways, yet quiet in others.

 Tonight was different, however. She was loud despite the Anchor, or maybe louder because of it—he wasn’t sure. Emotionally, the Inquisitor was spent; the lion’s share of Era’s time went to helping others—refugees, soldiers, mages and even her own companions. There was nowhere that she wasn’t needed, where someone didn’t call to her.

 Cole loved helping, and loved that the Inquisitor helped people, but he hated to see how she worked herself to death, how no one helped _her_ when she was hurting _._ No one else could hear like he could, but they had to see it—the little lines that formed around her eyes, the dark circles that formed when she was over worked, fatigued, the way she ached over everything she lost and the emotional whiplash she experienced from losing her family, to being thought a murderer to becoming the exalted Herald of Andraste and finally, the Inquisitor—the woman meant to save the world from certain destruction.

 It was a lot for one person to go through so quickly, Cole thought; he hadn’t been there until just before Haven was buried, but he saw reflections of it from everyone else.  _Overworked, overwrought, help the helpless and feed the hungry; Too much for one woman_. _All hopes and fears weigh upon Era, millions of lives on her shoulders and the blood of her enemies submerges her in an ocean of guilt and regret. So many wasted lives, people she couldn’t help, couldn’t save._

 Another shiver ran through Cole, and he decided he needed to do something—he could hear the screaming of her mind as she relived her darkest memories—it was like a gnarled, thorny root was knotting inside her, cutting everything in its wake as it closed into a ball of wrong. Everyone saw the pain in her eyes, but no one did a thing. Neither did he—he needed to help, and he could, would.

Cole found himself at the bottom of Era’s stairs, her inner stirrings even louder as he grew closer. It was too loud, too much—but he pressed up the stairs.

He had to.


	2. Awakening

Era woke with a start, gasping for air as if it would be the last she breathed.  Her hands cradled her head and her body was covered with a thin layer of icy sweat that made her shiver.

" _Searing pain, lyrium burns in my veins. Side aches, face marred from falling. The smell of Elfroot as I wake up, where is Adahlen? What happened to... No, please. Grief crushes my spirit like a rock crushes an insect; body limp, lifeless. Some First I am. I failed him, failed them, why_?" The words had been her thoughts, but they came from someone else. Her eyes moved over to the blond boy who looked at her with surprising sadness. "You didn't fail them." Cole’s voice was quiet, as sad as his eyes. The heels of her hands came to her eyes, rubbing them as she tried to wipe away the sleep and nightmares.                

"Aneth ara, Cole," the Inquisitor greeted, regarding him not with anger or offence, but curiosity; her mind was too wracked with grief to mind the invasion, and truth be told, she could use the company. "Why are you here? Did my dream bother you?” She asked.  “I thought the Mark made me... Too bright?"

"It does. But your pain was very loud." He said sitting perched atop her desk with his feet kicking anxiously. She understood. It was the first time in a long time the nightmares had plagued her; she had been too busy, spent too much time worrying about the world and everyone else. "You had a husband." He stated, and mutely the Inquisitor nodded.

Having just arrived at Skyhold from the aftermath of Adamant and the Fade, the Nightmare had made the memories fresh in her mind. " _Green eyes; gentle and kind. A Mage like me, he loves me and everyone, gentle kisses, gentle touches,”_ Cole pauses briefly. “ _He's smart, fair. He gets angry but never yells. He should be First.  Wish I was more like him... he died and I lost our child, if I had just listened... Alone_." Comfortable silence hung between them. "I think he would like it if you visited."

"What d'you mean?" Era asked curiously. Her husband was dead, buried not long before the Conclave. Cole knew that.

" _Peaceful, he’s resting. There's trees where he is, surrounding him and growing inside him_." He said, leaving Era to mull his words over as he spoke. "It's been a long time since you've seen it, the tree has grown. He misses the way you tell him stories, he likes hearing that you’re well." Era ran her fingers through her silky white bangs, thinking deeply as Cole spoke.

“I… Do you know anything else?” She asked curiously. Cole seemed lost in thought for a time before he spoke again, his voice gentle as always.

“He’s proud of you.”  The thought brought a small smile to Era’s lips, making the scar that rested just above her upper lip more visible.

“Ma serannas, Cole.” Her voice was quiet, a little shaky, but he felt the appreciation and care behind it nonetheless. Cole lingered for a while, sitting on the large bed she’d had sent from the Free Marches; plush red sheets, four posters and scandalously comfortable. Her voice broke the pleasant calm, pushing away the memory of the nightmare.

“I’d like it if you came with me,”

“All right,” Cole answered, and that was all that needed to be said.


	3. The Dirge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era and Cole travel to the Hinterlands to pay their respects.

When Era finally took the trip to visit her husband’s grave, it was just her and Cole before the barely grown saplings that acted as grave markers. Silence hung between them while Era sat before the new patches grass that had started to grow around the fledgling trees.

Adahlen’s grave was in the Hinterlands, far from where her clan was now—the Free Marches. Once it was decided that Era would attend the Conclave, her clan set off to return to Wycome. They knew the Free Marches far better than they knew Ferelden.

Clan Lavellan almost never travelled to the southward country, for it was a long journey that required passage on a ship, but Keeper Deshanna had wondered whether sending an attaché of hunters or mages to the Conclave would be necessary. The fighting between the rebel Mages and Templars was spilling out all over Thedas and they knew it would come to affect them, as it had done not long after arriving.

It wasn’t until Era lost her husband and child to the Templars that Keeper Deshanna had even considered sending her; the First was an important role, one that groomed a mage to take over for the Keeper, what Era was meant to do until the events at the Conclave placed her as the most important figure in Thedas.

Era sat between the two barely grown trees she knew marked her family’s graves; the baby girl she lost due to her wounds and Adalehn. A sad, quiet song rang inside her, and without realizing it, Cole had started to sing it before she did; he knew the song, he’d realized. He’d heard it before, but couldn’t place where.

Sad blue eyes turned toward Cole in surprise, her head tilted to regard him with quiet curiosity.

The song was wordless at first, sad, low humming the only sound between them. It was only when the words came that Era joined in the song herself. Tears ran, unbidden, down Era’s reddened cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake. When they finished, Era looked to Cole mournfully, but a small smile crossed her lips. If nothing else, she was glad for Cole’s company.

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan…” She whispered to the graves. She spent a little time weeding the area and found some flowers to place on the small mounds of dirt. She dusted her hands off when she finished, smiling to Cole again and feeling much lighter than she had since their experience at Adamant fortress.

“They’re glad you’re happy,” He said quietly. Era nodded.

“Ma serannas, I am truly grateful that you came with me today.” She said, planting a chaste kiss on Cole’s cheek before mounting her hart. “We can head to the crossroads, I’m sure the healer there could use some help.” The blond spirit nodded.

_Heart flutters, free from the barbed vines that sought to hurt her, haunt her with faces she couldn’t save. She’s happier, lighter than before and she can move on._ Cole touches his cheek after he mounts his nuggalope. His heart pulls, his stomach flutters strangely and he feels like he might fall off. When Era sets course for the healer’s cabin at the crossroads, he’s happy for the distraction. He liked helping people, regretting that he had not done more at the Spire.

Era’s head was held high, heart light and unlittered; she had cast away the shackles that held her, filled with a resolve to help others. _Hair like the mountain snow, she’s a leader that helps without hurting; she lets fear guide where necessary, but doesn’t use it to crush others, not like the Lord Seeker. Kind eyes that light when she laughs, when she helps her soldiers._ Never had he felt so certain of his decision to stay and join the Inquisition. “I’m glad I came,” Cole said without thinking, and Era chuckled lightly, her hart just a few feet ahead of his nuggalope.

“I’m glad, too,” She returned with a smile. Cole’s face burned and he felt a bit silly, but was glad she returned the sentiment.

They arrived at the crossroads within minutes, and Era dismounted, taking time to speak to some of her soldiers before heading toward the healer’s cabin; Cole remained, watching her from his nuggalope’s back.


	4. The Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era and Cole find a Fade Rift in the Hinterlands.

As a competent healer, Era assisted the elven healer from Redcliffe and collected missing ingredients for potions and salves, as well as offering her own healing magic. She also spent time with Corporal Vale and the new recruits, particularly interested in the sparring and training he had them doing. After the help she offered the refugees in making the Crossroads safer, many were excited to see her and it made her smile proudly to see the effect she had on them.

While doing her rounds, the young Inquisitor came across one of the Inquisition’s men by the healer’s cabin, lying still on a cot. Angry crimson streaks were parted in the center by torn cloth and shredded flesh. She approached him, taking a knee beside the cot and working to remove his upper layer of clothing; cloth, metal and leather laid in a pile beside her and she quickly worked to use a healing spell to close the weeping wounds.

It seemed the wounds were deeper than she first thought and Era found Cole handing her a Lyrium potion so she could continue her work. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her eyebrows knitted in concentration as she bade the skin mend itself; Once she had the wound as close to healed as her magic could bring it, she grabbed a wash cloth and bucket of clean water to wash the wound, cloth and water turning a brownish-red from her efforts. The remainder of the wound was covered in salve and gingerly wrapped, and after finding some food and water, she remained beside the man in quiet contemplation.

“What do you think, Cole?” She asked after a while, looking to her blond companion. Cole regarded her with a curious look, and with a tentative smile, Era clarified: “These wounds. A terror, do you think? Or can you see what happened?”

_“Demons, there’s demons falling from the Rift, where’s Litner? I can’t—she’s there, can’t tell if she’s dead. Maker, that demon is big, run, gotta find someone, can’t close it, can’t close it, Maker help. Tell the Inquisitor it opened, have to run, can’t leave Litner_.” This brought more questions than answers, and the Inquisitor’s brow furrowed with unspoken worry, but Cole felt it.

“I… think Litner is alive. The Rift is still open, though. We should… close it, if we can.” Era nodded, grabbing her staff and slinging it over her back.

Cole followed her to their mounts, which were neatly tied to a fence near the small pond not far from the healer’s cabin. She swiftly mounted her large, white hart in a swift and practiced motion. Cole had considerable trouble mounting his nuggalope, finally managing to jump on with a quiet “oof!”. Era managed a quiet chuckle as he did so, allowing Cole to situate himself atop the broad beast before looking to him. “You know where it is, right?” She asked. He thought about it, then gently reached and took her map from the pack that rested on the side of her hart, pointing nearby a landmark.

“There.” He said, handing the map to her to examine, and after figuring out the fastest route, she nodded and squeezed her hart with her heels to urge it forward. She took the beautiful white hart from a walk to a steady gallop, and still it takes almost an hour for them to get there.

Before even getting to the rift they could see the Greater Terrors stalking back and forth in front of the Rift, wisps flitting around between trees and rocks.

“Lovely…” Era muttered with a sigh, jumping off her mount and taking her staff from her back.

“ _It’s just us, should have called for help; I’m an idiot. I’m scared, I fall, the Inquisition fails. So much rests on me, should I have done this for one soldier? Idiot.”_ Cole spoke her thoughts as though it was nothing and the Inquisitor gave a mirthless chuckle. “You're afraid that we'll die.” He said matter-of-factly.

“I am.”

“We won’t.” She chuckled again. Cole was trying to reassure her, to make her sure so she could fight with certainty and not fear but he had no way of knowing whether the Rift would be too much for them. “ _He can’t know, doesn’t, but doubt will kill us. We must be sure.”_   Era nodded slowly.

“Thank you, Cole.” She said, with no small appreciation for his intention. “Ma melava halani.” She brought forth lightning, hurling it at the middle-most Terror. “Din’an ara ma, demon!” She shouted as the bolt spread from the middle demon, to the other Terror and surrounding wisps and back again, sparking and crackling as it shocked them.

Cole had disappeared, as was his usual routine in battle. He reappeared behind the first Terror she shocked, blades digging deep into its bony structure and out the other side. With a swift motion, he dragged the blades down through its torso before pulling them back out, vanishing in a puff of silvery smoke. She conjured a ball of flame, throwing it at the middlemost Terror so that it would catch two other wisps in the blast.

The second Terror disappeared, she realized too late; it appeared behind her and though she whipped around to slash it with the blade of her staff, its great claws knocked her hard to the ground, winding her and leaving wounds that burned as if they were alive. The cuts blossomed outward with hot, wet crimson and Era groaned, her head spinning and guts burning.

“No!” She heard Cole shout, and he appeared by the demon in a cloud of energy and smoke, one blade sweeping low and cutting the demon’s legs from beneath it, its body landing upon the dagger waiting below.

The wisps had since been disposed of, leaving the other injured Terror. Cole moved to deal with it, but Era raised her hand, weaving the Fade into a frozen cocoon around it and then shattering the demon with a burst of flame. Her vision was a hazy mess now, but once the demons crumbled away, she “wiggled her fingers” as Dorian would put it, sealing the Rift before heaving a tired sigh.

Cole came toward her, but Era shook her head. “Find Litner first. I’m not important.” She urged, and as Cole hesitantly went to find the soldier, she started to use a healing spell on the burning wounds. “Ngh…” she grunted as the skin tried to knit itself together; Terror wounds were nasty, festering things and her blood burned in her veins. The best she could manage with her low mana was bringing the wounds to a trio of burning scabs that remained on her chest.

Her shirt was ruined, and her outer coat wasn’t much better off, but her mind was fuzzy from blood loss and too-little mana to really care. She was only vaguely aware of the large hands scooping her up at this point, finding herself looking up at a mess of white-blond hair and silver-blue eyes. “ _Burning, pulling, guts gripping; my skin tingles from the magic, light headed, tastes like metal_. Can you sit up?” Era looked up at Cole, not really sure if she could. “You don’t know,” He confirmed.

Gingerly, he set Era her atop her hart, finding ropes in her pack to hold her to its saddle while she leaned against the beast’s neck. She glanced over to see who she assumed to be Litner lying unconscious beside Cole’s nuggalope. “She is alive, but hurting. I would help you too, but you told me to help her and you are awake.” Mutely, Era nodded. She preferred Cole helping Litner, since she was in no position to do so herself. Her quivering hands gripped the fluffy tufts covering the back of the hart’s neck, but not long after they began to move out, her vision went dark.


	5. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I just started some new medication and suffered a bit of a lack of focus.

“Keeper?” Era’s voice was weak and raspy. The smell of elfroot and burned wood overwhelmed her, causing her nose to crinkle slightly. Startled, the silver-haired elder turned to her, smiling with immense relief. Her eyes were reddened from grief, dark circles under her eyes sitting as a reminder of her sleepless nights.

“Oh, you’re awake, da’len…” Keeper Deshanna said with palpable relief, sitting on the cot and wrapping her arms around the white-haired future Inquisitor.  “Thank the Creators, I feared you would never come back to us.” Having been in her eighth month of pregnancy, Era was surprised at the lack of difficulty at hugging her Keeper. Her eyes fell to her stomach, realization hitting her like freezing winter water and making her heart skip a beat.

“What happened?” She asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer. Deshanna looked down at her, tears prickling the corners of her sorrowful eyes.

“You remember the Templars’ attack on our clan, yes?” She said with a slow, sad shake of her head. “They killed most of our mages. Many of our hunters were injured as well, a few died to protect us.” Era nodded mutely, her eyes asking what she could not. “… Your husband perished, his wounds were too severe. Your daughter did not make it, either.” Deshanna heaved a long, heavy sigh, standing to prepare tea with boiling water she had brought in not long before Era woke.

“That Templar ran you through and if she did not die right away, it was not long after. We couldn’t do anything but… Remove her, or the injury and resulting infections would have taken you as well.” Era was keenly aware of the guilt that hung in the air around her beloved teacher.  “The operation to save you also rendered your body too weak to take another pregnancy.” She admitted, more quietly.

Hot tears pooled in Era’s eyes before spilling silently down her cheeks. She shakily brought her sore hands to her face, trying to wipe them away but they continued to flow freely with her grief. She felt cold inside and out and her body quivered uncontrollably as she found herself starting to wail; an unbecoming sight, to be sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about appearances.

“Oh, da’len…” Deshanna whispered sadly, setting two cups intended for tea on the stand next to Era’s cot and wrapping her arms around the young woman again, fingers running through Era’s long hair while she sang a quiet lullaby to soothe her young apprentice.

Before long, Era was asleep in her arms again, too frightened and grief stricken to want to remain awake. “Ir abelas, da’len.” The Keeper whispered to her sleeping First, praying she would make it through the grief. “Mala suledin nadas, da’vhenan.”

* * *

_The loss hurt her more than the sword, but she knows she has to endure it._

Cole grunted as he gently lifted Litner from the back of his nuggalope, Era’s pain pulling at his mind. The slender scout was light, but her limp body was dead weight in his arms. He found an empty cot next to the scout Era helped not long ago, setting the woman down.

The elven healer peered out of her cabin just in time to see Cole untangling the knots he tied to keep Era atop her hart, gingerly removing the snowy elf from its back and placing her in another cot. “Oh, Maker’s sake.” the brunette woman swore, approaching Cole and swatting his hands away from the Inquisitor. “She’s practically indecent. You let the Inquisitor travel like this?” She asked, very plainly annoyed.

Era’s shirt and breast bindings had been cut by the demon’s claws, leaving only bits of shredded cloth. “What?” Cole asked, confused. “I-I didn’t-…” He stammered, shifting uneasily under the older woman’s eyes. Unmoved, the healer held up a hand to silence the flustered spirit, striding into her cabin before returning, a dress in her hands.

“Right, leave them both to me.” The healer said, shooing Cole away. “Go find me some more elfroot and spindleweed.” The blond spirit nodded dumbly, quickly moving to heed her orders. The elder woman set upon undressing both women, cleaning them down and tending to minor wounds where she could. She replaced Litner’s clothing without her armor and carefully dressed Era, leaving the pair to rest until Cole returned with the herbs.

After quickly mixing a few concoctions, the healer set to work spreading the mixtures over the various wounds and cuts covering the pair, wiping her brow once she finished. “I’ve done what I can.” She said tiredly, her forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat. “The rest is up to them.” And with that, she returned to her cabin where she prepared her dinner.

Cole spent the rest of the day watching over the two women from a stool beside Era’s cot. Litner woke first, sitting up and seeming surprised she woke. “Maker,” she breathed, brushing raven locks from her face. “I thought I was done for.” She looked to Cole before her eyes drifted down to the Inquisitor, her eyes widening as they fell upon the inquisition insignia upon Era’s coat; it sat in a heap not far from her cot. “Andraste’s tits! Is that the Inquisitor?” The Ferelden woman cried in surprise.

“Yes.” Cole answered, managing a smile. “A soldier told us you were hurt. We helped.” Litner’s eyes drifted to the blond, but they didn’t linger.

“Maker!” The woman swore again, running nervous fingers through dirty hair. “I was saved by the Inquisitor? I… I need to return to my post and tell Captain Moreau what happened. Thank you.” She said with a bow, picking up her armor. “Tell her- tell the Inquisitor I’m forever in her debt.” The raven woman said, taking her leave quickly and leaving Cole alone beside Era’s cot.


	6. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Era wakes up, she and Cole exchange some questions.

Era groaned as her senses returned. Her eyes opened slowly, burning from the light above while her body was on fire from the pain. Her bright blue orbs met silvery ones, obscured by the familiar mess of blond hair, and weakly, she smiled.

“Cole,” She breathed gently, almost startling the spirit. He’d spend the night next to Era, watching over her carefully.

“You’re awake,” He said with a pleased chuckle. Era tried to sit up but his large hand stopped her, keeping her in place.

“ _Body burns, stabbing, and pulling pain_. You need to rest.” Era sighed in quiet defeat, reclining and looking to the sky above her.

“Where are we?” She asked, daring not to roll over and look.

“The crossroads, at the healer’s cabin,” Cole answered simply. “Litner is alive, but quiet. She’s thankful we helped her.” He had answered her next question before she even got to ask, but she smiled gratefully.

“You can take your hand away, Cole. I won’t go anywhere.” As Cole slowly removed his hand, Era caught a glimpse of her clothing for the first time. “I’m… in a dress. Where did this come from?” She asked curiously.

“The healer,” He answered, he looked away anxiously and put his hand on the back of his neck. “ _She’s practically indecent. You let the Inquisitor travel like this?_ She was angry. She cleaned the wounds and gave you one of her dresses.”

“Indecent?” Era found herself peering down the top of the dress to examine the thin pink lines that remained from the injury. One long mark over the top of her breasts, curving slightly downward, a shorter one down the middle, and a third below that connected to the first creating a long ‘c’ shape around her chest. “Ah. It cut through my shirt, then.” She said, shaking her head with an amused smile; she loathed thinking how it would have looked to have the Inquisitor riding bare-chested and unconscious, but the idea of the healer giving Cole what-for for something he didn’t understand somehow amused her. “Good thing I was asleep for it. How long was I out?”

“Over night.” Cole answered. “I had someone send a bird to Leliana.” Era found herself a bit surprised by his initiative. “It’s what you would have done. Leliana will send help, but not worry the others.”

“…Ma serannas, Cole… Truly.” She said, looking at the sky above them. The Breach was visible, even from there, reminding her of their attempts to close it; the first attempt had stilled or slowed it, but not stopped it, and the second stopped it without sealing it entirely. It was still, and nothing fell from it anymore, but it still loomed over them like a dreary cloud of despair.

“Why do you speak to me in your language?” Cole asked, drawing her mind from the Breach. “I don’t speak it.” Era found herself smiling again.

“You don’t need to speak it to understand. You feel or hear the intent behind the words, and you know whether someone is grateful or angry...”

“That… Makes sense,” Cole replied, looking thoughtful. “It also feels familiar to you, feels like home, like him. You like that I listen.” He added, and Era nodded.

“I do.” Her heart thudded against her chest, just a bit harder than usual as she looked at the silvery blond. It was strange to think that a spirit could be… so human; she had expressed to Solas that she thought them like people, but in truth she’d never seen one so close to what she thought people were like or should be like.

Era found herself wondering if spirits felt like people do; love, loss, happiness—Cole did, or he seemed to? She wasn’t sure. As if on cue, Cole chuckled as if there were some inside joke she wasn’t privy to. “Creators, Cole, get out of my head.” She joked and the spirit paled slightly.

“Oh, s-sorry.” He responded meekly and Era gaped.

“I was kidding! You _were_ reading my mind?” Cole’s hanged head was all she needed as a response. Era let out an airy laugh. “Alright, maybe you can answer my question then?” She asked; the spirit looked even meeker, somehow.

“I … for other spirits it’s… flitting, fleeting, they can’t feel or they can’t fly free.” He explained, a hand resting on his hat. “It’s… different for me. What people feel about me doesn’t stick because I’m not real, but whatever I think or feel stays unless I let it go.” He paused thoughtfully. “Sometimes I don’t want to let it go, so it holds me.” Era nodded, looking at Cole curiously.

“Holds you?” She asked gently.                                        

“Yes.” Cole answered, his fingers absently tracing the brim of his hat. “Like the rope and stone that pull her to the bottom of the lake, _drenching, drowning in despair until she is gone_.” This left Era more confused, and the spirit seemed to realize it. “It’s like the weight of the stone tied to her ankles. It pulls her down and she can’t get away once it’s there.” Slowly, the elven woman nodded.

“Did that actually happen to someone?” She asked. Cole nodded his head, looking toward the hills.

“Yes.” He said, his eyes lost in something only he could see. “We can’t help her now.” He added quietly. Era took this to mean that she was dead. It was quiet for a while before Era squirmed, wanting to sit up.

“Cole, I’m going to die of boredom if you don’t let me sit up and do something.” The blond spirit frowned.

“Not until the carriage comes. The healer said you should lay down as much as possible,” He insisted and Era groaned, trying to ignore him and sit up anyway—no luck, a large hand stopped her again, this time his hand stayed on her chest, keeping her just a few inches above the cot. A flush rose to Era’s cheeks, and she reclined with a huff.

“Fine,” She conceded. “But I expect you to entertain me.”  Cole nodded, removing his hand gently and waiting as Era found a way for him to entertain her. She elected to ask questions about his past. Cole answered what he was comfortable with, and it was enough to keep her busy until the carriage arrived.

 


	7. Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era agrees to share some stories with Cole during their trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the day! Thanks for reading :)

It was a few hours before several scouts arrived on horses pulling a small carriage of sorts. It was just bigger than a wagon, clearly meant for transporting a small amount of people. Cole helped the Inquisitor in, insisting she lay down until she offered to read her book to him; the one she kept clipped to her belt but never touched.

One thing Era noticed as she read was that Cole wasn’t necessarily interested in the words. In fact, he was more interested the feelings she expressed and the small paintings that adorned every other page. As she came to the end of one of her favorite tales, the one of Ghilan’nain, Cole gently touched the painting beside it with the tips of his fingers, running them over the lines. “You painted these.” He said, tracing over the thin brush strokes that made up a halla’s horns.

“Yes.” She confirmed, watching as he examined the picture. “I wrote a lot of our tales down so I would never forget, and I often write ones I hear from other elves. But the pages felt lonely with just words, like they needed colour… So I added some.”

“I think your book is happy this way. It tells lonely tales of things long thought lost, but you gave it life and love.” Era gave a quiet giggle before pain shot through her chest and made her eyes clench shut.

“Fenedhis, this really hurts.” She groaned, leaning her head back against the seat. “At least Josephine should have that amulet for you soon.” The Inquisitor still remembered the day they returned from Adamant and their horrible trip through the Fade. Stroud was presumably dead, Hawke was gone, having left for Weisshaupt and a bunch of potential blood-mages had entered the Inquisition’s ranks.

She remembered the way her heart broke as Cole begged Solas to bind him, to keep him from turning. She wondered if it had been selfish to deny his wishes and seek out an Amulet of the Unbound instead. It had a chance of failure due to Cole’s strange nature or he could be affected in the meantime, rendering it useless.

“Yes, I don’t want to become a demon.” Cole answered with a quiet voice. Silence hung between them after that, but eventually a small smile tugged the corners of his lips, surprising Era.

“…Why are you smiling?” She asked curiously, stretching vainly in hopes of stopping the dull, throbbing pain sitting in her chest.

“You want to lean or lay on me, but you don’t want to ask.” He replied, and the Inquisitor’s cheeks burned. “I don’t mind,” He added. “It hurts, I want to help.” She sighed, complying and leaning on Cole’s shoulder, gently as she could.

“Creators, I hate you sometimes,” She said in an attempt to sound angry, but the chuckle that rumbled through Cole’s chest told her he knew otherwise.

“You don’t mean that.” He replied simply, and Era didn’t protest—she wasn’t sure exactly _how_ she felt, but it wasn’t hate, even if she did curse his ability to see right through people at times.


	8. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era's return to Skyhold isn't exactly uneventful (and I'm still bad at summaries).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! I edited this one without a proof-reader because mine needs some time, but hopefully it's not bad. If you see any mistakes don't hesitate to let me know!

Era awoke in the carriage just as they passed through Skyhold’s large gates, looking out the window before turning her gaze to her blond companion.

What struck her Era first was that she literally felt an air of tension around Cole. He was contemplative, quiet and the space between them felt awkward somehow. He seemed to sense that Era had woken up, eyeing her in quiet appraisal.

“Cole?” She tilted her head, her curious blue orbs staring into Cole’s silvery-blue ones through his messy hair.

“I need to talk to Varric or Solas… No, both.” He said, and once the carriage came to a stop he was gone in a sudden burst of light and smoke. Era stared at the empty space where Cole had been moments before, shaking her head.

“Creators! What’s gotten into him?” She wondered aloud, leaving the carriage herself and walking leisurely toward the stairs that led to the upper level of Skyhold’s courtyard.

As expected, Era was surrounded by her advisors and a furious looking Cassandra. “Don’t you all look cheerful?” She said dryly, wrapping her arms around her ribs as they throbbed painfully.  

“What were you _thinking_?” Cassandra asked. Her voice was worry that felt eerily similar to anger. “You left with almost no notice, and you only took that… _demon_ with you!” Era’s gaze hardened at the word “demon” and she shook her head with a sigh.

“Look… I can’t really explain why I did what I did, but know that despite what happened it was something I _long_ needed. I come back feeling lighter than I have since before the Conclave.” She said, blue eyes moving from her advisors to the ground. Of the quartet of worried people surrounding her, Leliana seemed the most understanding.

It was to be expected, in a way. Leliana had spent time with the Hero of Ferelden, another Dalish woman who from what Era heard, suffered similar loss and culture shock upon entering human society. Leliana was a ruthless woman at times, but Era caught rare glimpses of sentiment and ideals through the carefully calculated exterior. “Maker, what would we done if you had died?” Cullen asked. His voice was filled with more anger than his face which was plainly painted with worry. “How could you be so foolish? It was…” The sorrowful look Era gave Cullen caused his voice to catch in his throat, and his hand sat on the back of his neck. “No matter. I’m glad you’re safe.”

With a few questions regarding Era’s well-being and the status of the Fade Rift and Inquisition soldiers she and Cole encountered, the three advisors returned to their posts and left Era alone with the Seeker.

“You could have taken me with you.” Cassandra said once the others were gone. Era struggled to find the right words for an explanation, leaving an awkward silence between them. She didn’t want to make Cassandra feel less trusted, Cole only knew and went with her because he had literally _seen_ what happened, after all.

“I…” Era rubbed one of her temples with her free hand, her nose and brows crinkling in concentration. “It was a personal venture. One Cole only knew about because he… heard it and wanted to help.” She looked at Cassandra’s feet nervously. “It’s sort of like how you weren’t willing to speak of your brother at first. I can’t … It’s difficult to speak of.” Era was surprised to feel a gloved hand on her shoulder, and as she looked up at Cassandra she found the Seeker’s eyes full of compassion.

“I understand. Just… try to be more careful.” Era nodded.

“I will. I promise.” With a few more assurances that she was fine, the Inquisitor managed to reach her chambers, sighing as she laid eyes on the massive stack of paperwork sitting untouched on her desk.  “Ah. The fun never ends in Skyhold.” She dryly remarked, taking her seat and burying herself in paperwork.


	9. An Awkward Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole's consultation with Solas and Varric takes an awkward turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more characters I add, the more worried I get about keeping them in-character! Same as last chapter, I proof-read on my own so let me know if anything seems out of place!

“I don’t know that I can help you, Kid.” Varric sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as Cole paced anxiously in front of him, looking more agitated than he had seen in a while.

“I want to _help_.” Cole said, frowning. “ _So many hurts—things that weren’t hurts until the Templars came, and now they’re tight, tangled and torn. But she’s bright like the sun and so many whispers—Somber songs singing sorrow, so loud that I can’t see past them to fix it_!”

“Slow down, Cole.” Solas said, trying to calm the spirit boy, who sat hard on Varric’s table. “We first need to know what it is that bothers you.”

“ _Era_.” Cole answered, causing both Solas and Varric to exchange curious glances.

“The Inquisitor? She stated that you were not able to read her clearly before. What changed?” He asked. The spirit gave them a despairing look.

“She’s bright, hard to see, the mark makes her more. But past it… _Despairing, despondent, dismal_.  _Templars took what she loved, and the rest was left behind. Happy memories turned to knives, hurt to think about and bring blame and self-loathing_.” The spirit adjusted his over-sized hat, a hand gripping the edge of the table. “ _Newly married, mouths meeting, breath fire against my skin. Fingers clumsy, woven into hair, under clothing, trying to untie knots. He hits his head off my bookshelf and I laugh, he laughs and it’s better, less awkward. Urgent, passionate cries, too much, too clumsy, but perfect and wonderful._ ” Varric felt his face burn and Solas cleared his throat, both men looking anywhere but Cole.

“Kid, I don’t think…” Varric’s voice trailed as though he was unsure where the thought was going to begin with. “W-wait. Does this mean the Inquisitor is married?” He asked incredulously.

“ _Adahlen is kind, calm. Raven hair a mess on his head and eyes green like the forest his love keeps me sane, makes me want to sing and laugh at once._ But the Templars took him and now there are only sad songs of guilt and longing.” The dwarf and elf next to Cole both lowered their gazes sympathetically.

“Sometimes,” Solas began, looking contemplative. “Help comes indirectly. Even offering an ear can lessen the pain and it may eventually fade or become manageable.”

“Just find small ways to make things easier for her.” Varric added.

“Like taking her to visit his grave and letting her know he doesn’t blame her?” Cole asked. The mage and archer exchanged looks once again before nodding in agreement.

“Especially things like that.” Varric confirmed. When it seemed business had concluded, Solas returned to the rotunda to continue his work but Cole remained on Varric’s table, still tense. “There’s… something else, isn’t there?” He asked tentatively.

“When I mentioned Era and her husband, there was a part you…”

“Got really anxious about?”  Varric finished for him.

“Yes!” Cole confirmed before continuing. “It confuses me. She was happy, whole, full… But when she looks back on it she is … hurting. She misses it, misses him and longs for it again, but can’t find that feeling.” He paused briefly. “It made me feel strange, too.” With that, a pregnant pause hung between them and Varric swallowed nervously. The spirit was not a complete stranger to the idea, he had watched the mages in the Spire slip away to indulge such things, but he didn’t understand it. Not fully.

It was often a moment of heated passion between those who knew they could seek nothing further, but sometimes it was love or care that brought a couple together. He understood the feelings to some extent, but not how such activity had the ability to fracture or strengthen a relationship, how some people indulged for loves while other sought nothing more than pleasure and how people still craved it despite the harm it could cause.

“ _Maferath’s balls_.” Varric swore quietly, breaking the silence. “Well, Kid. This is going to take a while to explain…”

Cole left their talk more confused than before.


	10. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric manages to find a nickname for the Inquisitor.

Varric found Era lost in a sea of neglected paperwork about troop movements and pledges of assistance from noble houses across Thedas.

“Your Inquisitorialness?” Varric called, startling the Inquisitor.

“Fenedhis!” The elven woman swore in unmasked surprise. “You scared me. I never hear you coming.” The blond dwarf managed to chuckle as she rested her quill. “Did you need something?” Era asked, noting Varrics uneasy appearance.

“Well… Shit, this is going to be weird.” He sighed, a rough hand finding the back of his head as he thought about his next words. “It’s, ah, about the Kid.”

“Cole?” She questioned, her brows knitting together with worry. “He was… a little strange earlier when we got back to Skyhold. Is he alright?”

“He’s worried about you, for one.” Varric said, opting to start with the easier news first.

“Well… that’s nothing new.” The Inquisitor tilted her head as she tried to read Varric’s expression, rather unsuccessfully. “He’s a spirit of compassion or something, isn’t he? That spirit in Crestwood called him Compassion.” The dwarf shrugged.

“The spirit thing’s a debate for another time, he had a bit of a … I guess a freak out, earlier?” Varric tried to explain. “Ah, an author that’s bad at explaining weird shit.” He sighed, then continued: “Anyway, he found the usual thing, you know ‘ _intangible tangles_ ’ and what not. He mentioned some… things between you and a husband.” He didn’t need to be a spirit to tell it was a sore subject. Era’s ears practically drooped and her eyes became dark and glossy. “That’s not even the weirdest bit.” He continued, hoping to entice the Inquisitor enough to distract her.

Era eyed Varric with wary curiosity. “…I’ll bite.”

“The Kid was rambling. I guess it was dreams about you and your husband. Or memories? I have no clue where he gets these things.” He rambled before shaking his head. “Anyway. When Solas was there, it was a bit more… ah, tame. Then he left and it was all ‘ _It was hot when it entered, wanting, wanton moans. Painful pressure threatening to burst, too much, but wonderful, perfect’._ Those were his _exact_ words for one of them. There was more, but you’re… already turning into a tomato.” And indeed, Era’s face was bright with blood and burning, boiling under her skin and only getting worse when Varric chuckled.

“ _Andruil’s tits_!” She cried, burying a red, freckled face in her hands with an audible groan. “Why?”

“He… ah… Yeah.” Varric sighed, taking a minute to think. “I guess whatever’s in your head that made him listen also said you were craving that sort of… _attention_ … So he wondered why.” Era now leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling with her heart threatening to pound out of her chest and her blood threatening to cook her alive. It was too much to take in at once. Varric, and likely Solas, now both knew about her husband, a pain she’d hoped to keep hidden at least a while longer.

On top of that, whatever memories she had about their intimate moments, Cole had viewed and asked about.  “Hey,” Varric called, snapping the Inquisitor from her thoughts. “I know it’s not much, but if you need to talk about that whole husband situation… I’d be willing to listen.” He offered. “You told me before that you wanted a friend, and this is all I can think to do unless you want to get drunk or play Wicked Grace.” Era laughed.

“Ma serannas, Varric.” She said gratefully. “Should I… um… be talking to Cole?” She asked. Varric shrugged.

“Honestly? That’s up to you.” He answered. “I explained as best I could, so he’ll probably leave it alone.” He started to walk toward the stairway, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your paperwork, _Red._ ” He joked as he left her quarters. Era groaned inwardly at the addition of her new nickname.

“You’re worried.”

Cole was not a welcome addition to the room at that moment.

“You told Varric _and_ Solas about Adahlen.” Era said, looking up to the spirit who sat on the ledge above her bed. “Why?” Her voice was quiet, not filled with anger as Cole had expected.

“It… Slipped out. Unwanted words flowing like water through a broken dam. I was worried until it helped instead.” She couldn’t deny that hearing Varric’s support made her feel better, closer to him. The young elf hadn’t realized just how stressful it was keeping pieces of herself locked away from her friends, from people who wanted to help.

“And the other information you so helpfully gave?” She asked, though her tone was more teasing than accusing. For all the embarrassment she suffered, she figured she earned the right to _some_ amusement.

“I… didn’t understand it.” Cole answered honestly. “Cassandra reads books about it, I hear thoughts and I saw some of the mages at the Whire Spire… I never understood why, though.”

“Do you understand now?” Era found herself asking.

“…No.” He answered, simply. She giggled.

“For a lot of people, it’s a type of closeness that you can’t reach with a friend. It’s beyond that.” She tried to explain, playing with her long, snowy braid. “It’s trust, connection, love. Some people don’t use it for that, it’s more casual to them, but… that’s how it was for me.” The look on Cole’s face said he understood a bit better, but was still helplessly confused on the matter. “Let’s not worry about it.” She said with a smile. “Why did you come?”

“…I wanted to check on you, but mostly I wanted to hear another story.” He answered quietly.  Era giggled, already reaching for the book on the corner of her desk and pushing herself out of her chair.

“Ma nuvenin, I think I can handle that.” She said, striding across the room to sit on her bed and patting the spot beside her. Cole joined her within moments, looking much like a child eager to hear another tale of the Grey Wardens.

It wasn’t long into the story of Dirthamen and Falon’din that Era noticed Cole had drifted off beside her, missing his hat. It surprised her, as she remembered Cole telling her he didn’t really need sleep.

Giggling, Era settled into the bed a bit more and continued to read anyway. At the very least, if Cole woke it would seem as though she hadn’t yet noticed and she did enjoy reading aloud anyway. It made her feel like she was back at home sharing stories with the Hahren, sitting beside the old man and checking to ensure they were correct. When they were as she wanted them, she read them to the clans children with the Hahren around the fire.

Era found herself settling in beside Cole, holding the book above her head as she continued to read the words out loud, occasionally stealing glances at the slumbering spirit. He looked completely at peace while he slept, his light blond hair in a messy halo around his head and hat sitting precariously on the edge of the bed beside him. His breath came in soft puffs, gently blowing his hair from his face each time he exhaled.

Most of all, Era found her eyes drawn to the small smile on Cole’s face and was embarrassed to admit to herself that she found the spirit attractive, despite looking human. Eventually, she forced her thoughts from the boy beside her and buried her nose in her book, pledging to eject thoughts of him from her mind.

She wasn’t sure how long it would work.


	11. Rest and Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era gets her invitation to the Winter Palace and begrudgingly prepares for the ball.

Era woke up a while later, book open on her face as though she’d dropped it when she fell asleep. She was surprised by the warmth and weight of a large arm slung over her stomach and the feeling of gentle breath against her hair. “Andruil’s tits!” She cried in surprise once she’d pulled the book from her face, spotting over at the blond spirit who lay beside her, still sleeping.

She really did have divine bad luck, as Varric had once said. She cursed this as she heard the door to her chambers swing open and the sound of boots hitting the stone of her stairs. Cole’s arm was dead weight on her slender form, and she found herself trapped beneath her sleeping companion.

When it turned out to be Varric, Era breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Creators it’s just you.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d try to step a little harder so you don’t have a heart attack and die.” He chuckled. “I have to say though, if the Seeker saw this she’d probably explode on the spot.” An amused grin crossed Varric’s face at the thought. “How did this even happen?”

“I don’t even know.” Era laughed quietly. “One minute I’m reading a story, another he’s asleep. I kept reading and I guess I nodded off too.” She shrugged. “What did you need, anyway?”

“I wanted to check on you after yesterday. And Josephine wanted to see you, I think.” Era was about to question Varric saying “yesterday” when she noticed the light coming through her large windows, bathing the room in sunlight.

“With windows like this, I don’t even know how I didn’t notice it was morning.” She said with a sigh. “I really don’t want to wake him up. I’ve never seen Cole sleep before.”

“I’m sure he won’t be bothered by you moving, you’ve got a job to do after all.” Era thought about it.

“I guess you’re right.” With a bit of effort she managed to free herself from Cole. She gingerly set her book on the stand beside her bed, pulling the plush blankets over Cole’s sleeping form before stretching.

“All right, let Josephine know I’m dressing and I’ll be right down to see her.” She said to Varric, heading to her wardrobe and looking through it until she found an ornate blue tunic and ram-hide breeches.

“No problem.” Varric said, heading back down her stairs. Era changed in the alcove that lead to the upper level of her room, putting on her footwraps before heading down the stairs herself. She strode through the throne room and into the antechamber where she found Josephine at her desk. Hearing the door, she glanced up at the Inquisitor and smiled in her usual polite manner.

“Ah! Inquisitor, I’m glad Varric sent you.” Josephine said, setting her quill back in the well. “We’ve arranged for travel to the Winter Palace. Your influence has drawn attention form the Orlesian nobility, and your invitation comes from Grand Duke Gaspard De Chalons, no less.” She said with her usual cheerful look. “With all of your recent achievements, it’s no surprise he was only too happy to invite us.” Era groaned at the idea of an Orlesian ball, though she knew she had no choice. The fate of the Orlais rested upon them and failure at the Winter Palace meant Corypheus would take Orlais. 

“I’m not meant for Orlesian politics.” The Dalish woman lamented.

“Thankfully, we will be with you and so long as you pick up the flow of conversation and basic etiquette… you will be fine.” She assured. “That and the gown we’re having tailored will make it hard to not make a good impression.”

“What about my companions?” Era asked curiously. “Can I bring anyone? And will they be given something to wear?”

“Of course.” Josephine answered to both questions. “Who willyou be bringing? There will need to be measurements for outfits and masks need to be made…” The Inquisitor paused a while to think.

“Um… Have them measure Varric, Cole and … Bull.” Era answered after a while. “I’m not sure how we’ll manage to get a shirt on Bull, though…” She mumbled, though she knew Josephine was likely ahead of her in that regard.

“As you wish, Inquisitor.” Josephine’s expression indicated she took issue with Era’s choice in company, but the polite Antivan woman said nothing of it. Era had already thought of it anyway. Varric, herself and Bull were visibly inhuman and would likely draw attention, but she was more worried about eliminating any threats within the Winter Palace than keeping appearances.

“Am I going to need to wear shoes?” The Inquisitor asked as the possibility of it settled in her mind. Era didn’t wear shoes often, if at all. Any shoes she owned previously were practical or comfortable, not made for dancing or grace.

“Ah, no.” Josephine answered, receiving a sigh of relief from Era. “I had considered the notion, but given you seldom wear them… Well, it would be asking for trouble. A simple trip and fall can ruin a reputation, after all.” She explained. “Instead, the dress will be long enough to cover your feet, which eliminates the problem for the most part.” Era nodded.

“Will there be a way to get our weapons inside should we need them?”

“I believe it can be arranged.” Josephine answered. “I believe we still have your measurements since you did need to requisition new armor yesterday, so you are free to go about your business… I would however inform those you intend to bring and send them to get measured if they need it.” Era nodded again, and bade Josephine farewell before returning to her room determined to read up on the Game and what would be expected of her when she arrived at the Winter Palace.

When she got there, Cole was simply gone, her bed re-made by servants and her book neatly placed on her pillow. She wondered when he had woken up, but shook her head as she went through her bookshelves.

She found a few books on Orlais, but not much about culture or attending parties. Sighing and opting to read up on Orlesian history, Era flopped in her chair unceremoniously and opened the book to the beginning of the first chapter.

She was already bored by the second chapter, and was relieved when Leliana strode delicately into her room with a knowing look. “Trying to study Orlais, I see.” She said with an amused smile, and Lavellan sighed softly, closing the book and setting it to the side.

“Yes, though I don’t have anything for it here. I don’t know that anything will help.” She said, shaking her head. “I’m fairly certain if I try to find ‘how are elves expected to behave in court’ I’ll find something about being on her knees in front of some comte.” She said with no small amount of contempt. To her surprise, Leliana laughed.

“That may be so, but I can at least show you what I know from years of being involved in the Grand Game. Perhaps it will help?” The red-headed Spymaster offered. Era shrugged.

“It can’t be worse than reading ‘Orlais: From Drakon to Florian’.” She said, allowing Leliana to school her on everything from dining etiquette, conversation, hiding facial expressions and concealing intent and even dancing.  They took breaks only for Leliana to provide tasks for her spies, and to give the Inquisitor brief moments to digest what she learned before quizzing her on it.

After a long night of work, Era felt at least a bit more prepared than she had been before. She knew what fork to grab, how to evasively answer questions, when to be ‘fashionably late’ and how to appear aloof to the right people.

She felt like her head might explode with all of the new information. It seemed silly that finding an assassin would be so… complicated. What Era had a hard time accepting was the idea that the assassin wasn’t the greatest danger to them, the court was. One small misstep could have them kicked out of the ball, disgraced and unable to find the assassin.

“ _The weight of all on me, too many people, too many faces. Pressure building, pushing, too much, too much. I cannot fail, I cannot falter._ ” Cole said from the balcony doorway, and Era started.

“Fen’Harel’s teeth, Cole, you scare me when you do that.” She sighed, shaking fingers pushing snowy bangs out of her face. “But yes, I’m worried about the ball. If my lessons with Leliana and talks with Josephine have taught me anything, it’s that the courts approval could ruin our chances of finding the assassin.” She said, leaning her head on her hand and closing her eyes for a moment with a long sigh.

“This might help.” Cole said and Era tilted her head curiously as he held her book to him, showing her a page decorated with trees and a story about Andruil and the Vir Tanadahl beside it.

“Oh, Cole _._ ” Era said with a giggle. “That’s perfect, thank you. I don’t revere Andruil as much many Dalish do, but I can still learn from her and I forget that.” She said, smiling. “Ma serannas, lethallin.” The spirit’s eyebrows knotted in a way that easily told Era he was confused.

“Lethallin is an endearing term. Usually, it’s said to other Dalish but some use it just for close relationships, for those who are like family or are dear friends.” She explained. “It just lets someone know you’re close to them, I guess.”

“I’m not sure I understand…” The blond admitted. Era’s smile faded briefly as she thought, but quickly returned.

“All right. You remember Solas’s friend? The spirit?” She asked. Slowly, Cole nodded.

“Wisdom, yes.” He answered.

“You remember what he said to her? ‘ _Lethallin, ir abelas’._ ” Cole nodded.

“He was hurt, angry. Another he couldn’t save.”  

“Focus on what he felt. The loss, the care, all of it if you can.” Era instructed gently, Cole closed his eyes for a moment as he did so. “He cared for Wisdom deeply. Her suffering hurt him and made him angry enough to kill those mages. You remember? ” Cole nodded. “I would feel that way if that happened to you.” She paused, blushing before adding:  “To any of my friends.”

“I’ve never heard you call Varric that.” Era laughed despite the blush darkening on her cheeks.

“I know. There are some of the group who wouldn’t want to hear it or don’t understand it, but you do.” She answered, stretching a little and maintaining a smile. “Like Sera. Solas might, but I see him more as… an elder, someone wiser and better. So I call him ‘ _hahren’_ , which is what elves call an old person they respect, usually. I would probably find some insulting word for Sera as a joke, but even then she seems to resent the Dalish, so I wouldn’t test it.” She closed her eyes, thinking.

“Varric feels like an elder, too, but he feels like a friend. I don’t know what I would call him.” She shrugged as she pulled her hand from her face, leaning back in her chair to look at Cole. “It’s too complicated, I think. So just calling you ‘ _lethallin_ ’ and Solas ‘ _hahren_ ’ is fine with me.” She said with a smile, and Cole chuckled quietly. 

“It _is_ complicated.” He agreed.

“So! Explanations out of the way and fretting done with, what did you come up for?” She asked. Cole averted his eyes and shifted his feet awkwardly.

“I fell asleep.” Cole said this as though it were an embarrassing confession.

“You? It cannot be.” Era said in feigned shock before laughing quietly. “I know, Cole, I left you here when Josephine needed me.” She said with a broad smile. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“A servant found me. She got upset so I… made her forget.” He said, and Era raised a brow.

“Upset how?” She asked.

“I…” There was a long pause between them, which served to make Era even more curious. “ _Weird boy, what are you doing here? Trying to sleep your way up the food chain or something? Taking advantage of the leader, anger; festering fury throwing fierce words before she can stop them._ She was very loud.” Cole gently gripped the brim of his hat.

“Oh.” Era said in surprise, scratching her head. “Is she, um… better now that she’s forgotten?” She asked.

“She’s less angry. She made the bed, and then she left.” Cole answered with a frown. “She was angry when she came up here, but she was so loud I couldn’t see why, and then I couldn’t find her.” The Inquisitor smiled, standing up from her desk.

“It’ll be okay.” She assured, looking up from her work to the spirit in front of her. “Oh! Come to think of it, you need to get Josephine to take your measurements.”

“…Why?” Cole asked.

“Josephine needs them to have clothes made for when we go to the Winter Palace. You, Bull and Varric will be coming with me.” She explained, but the blond didn’t look any less confused.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” He asked.

“You, ah… look like you’re homeless.” Era wasn’t sure how to say such a thing politely. The only clothes she ever saw him wear were worn and dirty or sat strangely around his neck. "As Dorian has so _helpfully_ reminded me from time to time."

“But they won’t see me.” Era sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

“I know, but I would feel much better if you dressed up too. Just in case.” She explained, leaning her head on her hand.

“…All right.” The spirit said finally, and Era breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Sometimes you make me wonder if I said something would help me, you’d do it regardless of what it was.” She said teasingly.

“I might.” Cole answered, obviously not taking it as intended.

“It was a joke.” She said, smiling despite the sigh that left her lips. “Anyway, I still have a bit of work to do. Make sure you get yourself measured since the ball is coming up soon.” Era her chair closer to her desk as she sat to review some notes she’d made from Leliana’s lessons.

Cole left as quietly as he came, and though Era buried herself in work she found herself missing his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a longer chapter than most of the others. The next one is the longest of the series, but I hope it's not boring!


	12. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era finds herself in need of rescue more than once during the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter, to be sure! I wanted to chop it into pieces for dramatic effect, but I didn't want to drag the ball out over multiple chapters. I hope it's interesting nonetheless!

Era was having a bad day before she even arrived in Halamshiral. The dress Josephine and undoubtedly, Leliana had made for her was too tight or too long in places and scandalously revealing in others. The dress had to sit _just so_. Her hair and even makeup had to be _perfect_ despite the mask she would wear most of the night.

The dress fell past her feet and dragged on the floor behind her hiding her tiny feet beneath the skirts. The fabric was blue, the same as the sky not long after the sun had set and was made from a silky, smooth satin. Over top of that, was a layer of glitter-covered lace painted designs along the skirt of her dress and making it look like stars and dark clouds against the night sky.

The shoulders of her dress dipped low, revealing her thing neck and the tops of her shoulders before dipping down just below the curve of her breasts, which despite being obvious enough on their own, were further pushed up by an ornate metal and halla-leather cincher tied with a black ribbon. Part of her snowy hair was pulled into a braid that wrapped around the back of her head like a low halo, the rest falling through the braid and landing just below her backside in natural ringlets.

A black ribbon was wrapped around her neck, and below that there was a silver pendant with a sapphire that hung just below her collarbone and her ears had been pierced and decorated with matching earrings and a couple of small studs.  The last of her accessories, a brilliantly decorated silver mask, sat in her hands as she sat quietly in her carriage.

Era had a good few hours until they would arrive at Halamshiral, and she was more than glad for the time. She wanted to spend the hours obsessing over every little thing Leliana taught her. In reality, Era soon fell out of her mental practice, taking her time to watch the landscape through the carriage window instead.

She wondered about those coming with her. The Inquisitor was in this particular carriage alone and had seen nothing of Varric, Iron Bull or Cole during her preparations. Era figured Leliana and Josephine would be positively glowing at the ball but everyone else likely felt the same disdain for Orlesian festivities she did. She hoped Varric would get a good story out of it, if nothing else.

As the carriage pulled up to the gates of the Winter Palace, Era felt herself shrink. It was huge, extravagantly decorated and brimming with well-dressed nobles.  Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, brilliantly decorated with what were undoubtedly military honors, stood waiting for them not far from the gate. Other than the medals and bits of plating he wore, he was almost unremarkable from other nobles. A gold mask obscured his aging face and he wore elegant Orlesian finery.

As Era stepped out of the carriage she was greeted by the Grand Duke, who bowed and gently took her hand as they exchanged pleasantries. As she and the advisors suspected, he immediately attempted to endear himself to her with suggestions of an alliance should he become Emperor of Orlais. She managed to politely evade the question before stepping into the courtyard.

Era was in no way surprised when she heard frantic whispering and some not-so-subtle remarks: “A Dalish savage is the Herald of Andraste?” One cried above all other noise. “Surely they must be joking.” But she grinned despite it, smiling pleasantly to any who passed by her. She met a couple of nobles, found a woman’s ring, listened to a few conversations and even found a strange little Halla carving in one of the planters before she met Josephine at the gates.

A couple of jokes and words of advice before Era followed Josephine into the vestibule where she spent a few minutes greeting nobles and looking for her friends. She found Varric first, next to Cullen and surrounded by a few nobles. She waded through the crowd to tap Varric’s shoulder, waving nervously once he turned.

“Thank Andraste.” Varric said upon seeing Era, and he excused himself to lead her away from the nobles. “I was looking for an excuse to get out of there. A couple of nobles came to fuss over Curly and when I introduced myself…” He shook his head with a sigh, though the smirk on his face clearly said he was pleased with himself.

“Ah, you have fans, then?” She asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah, more than I thought at least. My publisher said my books weren’t that popular here.” He said with a grumble. “I might have to have a word with him.” He looked Era over. “They did a good job with the dress. These are practically coming out to say ‘hey’, though. What’s up with that?” He said, gesturing to Era’s chest and drawing a blush to her cheeks.

“I’m not sure, myself.” She answered meekly.

“I believe I can answer that.” Leliana said from behind and slightly above her. Era spun to look at the red-headed spymaster. “Some of the nobles here have been known to be… fond of elves. Empress Celene included.” She said with a mischievous grin. “We figured such a display might… endear you to them a bit more.” The blush on the elf’s cheeks darkened and Era glanced away nervously.

“I-I really don’t want to be some noble’s mental conquest.” She mumbled, unaware she had said it out loud, and Leliana laughed quietly.

“Everything will be fine, Inquisitor.” She said, patting her shoulder gently before heading to the ballroom.

“Have you seen Cole?” Era asked, looking back to Varric. “I know I can find Bull since he’s just… so big. But Cole looks at least somewhat normal in this crowd.”

“I don’t know. He’s probably off trying to help some noble or something.” He said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry.” A bell rung and Era hung her head with a sigh. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Varric bid her farewell, nudging the elf toward the ballroom.

After Era’s party was introduced to the court in what had to be the most long winded way possible, she felt even more worried than before. Everyone had their names read off the guest list except for Cole and he had been completely absent from the ballroom, vestibule and courtyard. She wondered if the nobles’ constant plotting had been too much for him and he’d gone elsewhere. Masks upon masks upon masks; the Winter Palace was sure to be hellish for Cole.

Era steadied herself as she stepped to the landing just below Empress Celene, where the radiant blonde woman looked down at her with the warmth of a woman greeting an old friend. Her offer of greetings to Gaspard had been spurned, but she maintained her generous smile as she greeted the young Inquisitor. Era found herself wondering what sort of person would want to kill such an inviting woman.

* * *

 

The snow-haired Inquisitor really had no idea what she was doing. She was running all over the palace like a halla with rashvine caught on its horns as she desperately searched for any indication of who the assassin could be. She found several small halla statuettes made from a cool, smooth stone, confused by their presence until she discovered they acted as keys to some of Celene’s vaults.

In one such vault, Era had found several men in a mess of gore and paperwork. Stranger still, when she emerged from the small office off the Grand Library, she pushed through a door and found Cole leaning over the railing and looking at the statues below. “The faces talk even when they aren’t moving, silk on satin on skin, always wanting. Chaste but chased… Too many.”

“Cole!” She cried in surprise, walking delicately to his side. “Mythal’enaste, where have you been?”

“Here.” He answered simply. Era found herself laughing at the stupidity of her question.

“Gah. I mean, why are you here and not the ball?” She said, resting a hand on the railing and looking at him curiously. “I’ve been looking for you all evening. I thought maybe the machinations had been too much and you’d simply… left.” Cole shook his head.

“No.” He replied simply. His eyes seemed to avoid looking at her for the most part, like he was lost. “Are you all right, Cole? You seem distracted… More so than usual.” She said with no small amount of worry. Silvery blue eyes met ocean blue as Cole stood straight, folding his arms protectively his chest.

“They have faces inside their faces, lying with a layer that tells the truth. I-I don’t know how to help them.” Cole’s voice was shaky and filled with distress.

“What have you been doing?”

“A fallen fan can cut like a kiss. Hot breath from the wrong boy on the naked nape of the neck.” Era felt heat rise to her cheeks though she tilted her head curiously at the spirit’s words. “I helped until they made me stop. Now they’ve all forgotten.” Era tilted her head curiously.

“Made you stop?” She asked.

“They didn’t want my help.” He said, seeming frustrated. Era wondered why he was in the Grand Library of all places, but since it was restricted to most guests she assumed it gave him more solitude than anywhere else. “The thoughts were loud, and they became louder when you got here.” He answered, though he hadn’t needed to dig around in her mind to find the question. Era still stared quizzically at the blond spirit. “I needed to go where they weren’t so loud, but I knew you needed to find me.” She smiled and felt glad that at least Cole had remained for her sake.

“You probably wouldn’t smile if you heard what they thought.” Cole said and the elven Inquisitor found herself puzzled once again. What confused her more was the almost angry tone he had when he began speaking again: “ _Damn Rabbit, should bend her over a desk. That savage probably takes it from the Commander. I bet it’s a puppet they placed at the top to scare the Chantry. A pretty plaything._ ” Era wasn’t surprised that the nobles thought such things. It was no secret that elves were often admired for their looks and made valuable slaves, after all, and this only backed up what Leliana had told her earlier. “ _Better a beast bound and begging than prettied and prepared._ Some of them want to hurt you, they are the loudest. I won’t let them.” Era shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it, Cole. They won’t.” She assured him, lifting her hand and bringing sparks of lighting to the tips of her slender fingers. “They can’t.” Era smiled, dropping her hands back to her sides. “All right, since I know you’re safe I shouldn’t linger…” She started as she heard the library door’s lock click and moan as a key turned within it. “Shit.” She muttered, looking to Cole, then the door and back as she tried to think of a plan.

She couldn’t run, not in her dress and not fast enough and jumping over the rail would draw attention from the elven servants chattering just below. Era bit her lip, taking a deep breath. “Cole?”

“…What is it?” He asked looking over to the door as the person behind it fumbled with the locks.

“Ir abelas, Cole.” She mumbled before grabbing the collar of his red shirt, pulling him down and pulling his lips firmly to her own. His lips were cool, but surprisingly soft. Era’s heart raced like a frightened rabbit, adrenaline making her mind fuzzy and her hands tremble. The other youth looked at her questioningly but his hands instinctively fell on the railing on either side of her, accidentally pinning Era to the rail as he tried to keep himself from falling over.

With a shaky breath, the Inquisitor slid her hands to Cole’s back, gently knotting her fingers in the crimson fabric and shutting her eyes tightly, afraid to look at him or to the door as she heard it swing open with a screech that was dulled only by the sound of her heart pounding against her chest. Two voices could be heard faintly, as well as the unmistakable sound of leather shoes stepping toward them.

“Who’s there?” The voice sounded male and definitely Orlesian. The second person snorted.

“Just some couple looking for some _alone_ time I guess.” The second said with a chuckle.

“Wait, that dress.” Said the first, obviously having recognized her from earlier. “That’s the Inquisitor, isn’t it?” He asked, surprised.

“Scandalous!” The second said in amusement, but after another moment of gawking they left without much more than an amused chuckle between them.

Breathing a sigh of relief and trying to will away the heat in her cheeks and chest, Era released Cole, looking up at him apologetically. To make matters worse, all Cole said on the matter was:

“I could have just made them forget.”

* * *

 

Era had not realized she was running until she was already in the vestibule, heart threatening to pound its way out of her chest.

Composing herself, she managed to listen in on a few conversations between elven servants and a pair of servants even outright warned her not to go to the servant’s quarters as not a single elf had entered and come back. To back that up, she found a cylinder with a sheet of paper confirming that several elves had gone in at various times but never returned. The bell chimed, ringing through the grand halls of the Winter Palace and drawing a tired sigh from Era.

As Leliana suggested, Era waited until the second bell before she made her way back to the ballroom though she was stopped by raven-haired woman in a brilliant purple gown at the doors. The woman, Morrigan, helpfully informed Era that she had found a Tevinter agent within the palace and killed him before handing Era a key. Based on what she had overheard from the servants, Era assumed it led to the servants’ quarters.

She politely thanked Morrigan and took her leave to seek out Iron Bull and Varric.

* * *

 

“Where’s the Kid?” Varric asked, looking at Era curiously. A furious blush rose to her cheeks and she looked away nervously.

“The, ah… Grand Library.” She answered quietly.

“…Why aren’t we getting him?”

“I think it has something to do with the rumors I heard earlier.” Bull said helpfully. “Something about the illustrious Inquisitor having a lover?” He said with no small amount of amusement. “I mean, whatever you’re into, Boss.” Era’s cheeks burned brighter and she opened her mouth to respond, but found no words coming to her.

“Andraste’s sanctified ass, you’re shitting me.” Varric guffawed.

“Ar tu na’lin.” She finally grumbled a half-hearted threat in Elvish, looking nervously away from her pair of companions.

“No, you won’t.” The Qunari responded coolly; Era stared at him in surprise and he chuckled. “You pick a bit of it up when you work with elves, especially when you piss them off.”

“I can’t get Cole… I’m far too embarrassed to face him now.” The Inquisitor sighed, looking away from them again and fiddling with the pendant around her neck as she tried to explain what happened. The pair looked visibly amused, Varric positively looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. “I feel really stupid. We should be able to continue without him, right?”

“It’s up to you, Inquisitor.” Varric answered.

Era took a moment to ponder whether she should fetch the assassin. Awkward encounter aside, slipping back into the Grand Library would take too long and she wasn’t sure she could afford the distraction while they were meant to be investigating.

Using the key Morrigan gave her, Era opened the door to the servant’s quarters. Within steps of entering, they were greeted by the dead bodies of what had to be a dozen servants scattered from the hall, to the bedrooms and kitchen.

Their investigation found a murdered emissary with a dagger protruding from his back hearing the Chalons crest, several trade documents and love letters to give to Leliana and a vault opened with more halla statuettes.

In front of the vault stood a group of Venatori; one with a bow, two with daggers and one with a great sword. “Slay the elf!” The sword-bearing Venatori shouted, raising his blade in the air before getting into a battle-ready stance.

The air around the group crackled as static danced around the tips of Era’s fingers, sparking to life and charging in a vicious arc at the warrior, spreading from him to two of his allies. A bolt from Bianca caught the warrior in the forehead and Bull easily cleaved the bow-wielding Venatori in half with his blade. In a puff of thick, black smoke, one of the dagger-wielding rogues was gone. Era spun around to meet the dagger-wielding Venatori too late.

Something slammed into Era’s back and shoulder, knocking her against a vault door with a deafening rattle. Her head slammed against the cold metal before she slid to the floor, her legs jellied.

She shut her eyes tight, expecting to feel the warmth of her blood seeping through her clothes or to see a dagger protruding through her chest but Era saw and felt nothing other than a dull ache in her back and a sharp pain in her shoulder. “Cole?!” She heard Varric shout in surprise, willing her eyes open as a pair of familiar blades viciously sliced the Venatori’s head from his shoulders, blood spraying from the stump as the body fell to the ground.

The pain in Era’s shoulder throbbed and she put her hand to the back of her right shoulder, feeling a shallow wound where the Venatori’s blade struck her, where a pair of deadly stab wounds should have been. She watched, dazed, as the spirit easily dispatched the other rogue, vanishing in a puff of smoke before reappearing behind the man and slamming his blades into the Tevinter’s back, forcing the bulkier man to the ground before dislodging his blades and sheathing them with a fluid motion.

Cole was at her side in a moment, brushing his fingers over the wound left by the Venatori’s dagger. “He still hurt you.” He said, disappointed he hadn’t prevented the wound. Era shook her head, still wide-eyed from the ordeal.

“I don’t…” Era was very much at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure whether the scratch was the result of a clumsy failure or a swift save from Cole. She looked at the bloody mess only feet from her, trying to piece together what exactly happened.

“You left me behind.” The blond boy said sadly. “He would have killed you.” Era nodded dumbly.

“How… How did you get here in time?” Cole looked pensive, almost guilty.

“I followed.” He answered, either unable to or unwilling to lie to her. “Your thoughts were loud, but you didn’t want my help. So I followed.” He looked a bit relieved when Era didn’t appear upset. “You aren’t mad at me?” She shook her head, taking the time they had to heal the wound on her shoulder.

“No—no, I couldn’t be.” She said with a sigh. “It was my own stupid fault. What I did was stupid, and I tried to avoid it by avoiding you. Ir abelas, Cole, it was foolish.” Shakily, she stood, vainly trying to stretch her back a bit to relieve the pain from being knocked down.

“I hurt you!” Cole practically gasped and Era laughed louder than she probably should have.

“Cole, you saved my _life_ ,” She assured. “I can deal with whatever pain remains from that.” She gently rested her hand on his arm, looking to Varric and Iron Bull. “I have enough statuettes to open this vault. Should we see what’s in it?” She asked, and they grinned.

They weren’t surprised to find a locket in the vault. They were, however, surprised to find that it, along with many other things, was of elven make. It was engraved with halla and other elven symbols and sat in a decorative box atop a shelf. “What’s this doing here?” Era asked.

“Looks like the Empress might be sentimental.” Varric joked.

The rest of their investigation within the servants’ quarters yielded nothing aside from a few more Venatori within the same building and Ambassador Briala herself. A snide comment about _helping her people for once_ and a thinly veiled offer of alliance later, Era was back in the vestibule and on her way to the ballroom.

This time, she entered without interruption only to be caught by Grand Duchess Florianne who invited her to dance. Reluctantly, Era accepted and together they danced and discussed the evening, the elven Inquisitor being as elegant as she was evasive on the dancefloor; she made sure to answer questions with questions and never truly reveal her intentions.

The dance over, Florianne gave the Inquisitor a bit of information and a warning, before leaving her. Her advisors all approached one after the other forming a group around her and speaking in hushed whispers. Leliana had suggested they let Celene fall, as Gaspard would be a great military power, but Era refused—vehemently. They’d come to save Celene, and by Mythal, she was going to do that.

She managed to slip away from the group, seeking out Celene’s handmaidens, locket in hand. When she explained that she’d come across the locket, the handmaidens were all too quick to fetch Celene and bring her over to speak personally.

Era was polite, but to the point as she inquired about the locket, hoping to remind Celene of its importance. She wasn’t sure if she’d succeeded, but she hoped to have more luck pressing on Briala. She did, in a way; Briala had shown much more concern over the locket, particularly that Gaspard could have found it and exposed it, disgracing Celene publically. Era hoped that at the very least she could convince them later.

An elf working alongside the empress would hopefully better things for the elves in Orlais.

* * *

 

As per Florianne’s suggestion, Era took to the Royal Wing. This was where the empress’s personal bedchambers and gardens would be found and hopefully the mercenary Gaspard had supposedly hired. As they ascended to the upper level, Varric chuckled.

“Are we going to sneak around to look in the empress’s unmentionables now?” He asked. “Just how drunk are you, Boss?”

“Andruil’s tits, Varric, I’m not a pervert.” Era sighed as they reached the top, walking with the three men following not far behind her.

“I’m not so sure anymore.” He teased, drawing a chuckle from Iron Bull as well.

“Elgar’nan, I’m going to hurt you both.” She growled with sparks coming to her fingertips, and the pair only erupted into laughter as they entered the first bedroom. Seeing nothing but a halla statuette, she left it.

When they came into the main hall, they heard a loud shriek and Era immediately ran toward the set of doors it came from, throwing the doors open and spotting a Venatori harlequin looming over an elven woman, presumably a servant.

Unthinking, she charged in and kicked the harlequin out the open window, offering her hand to the woman to help her up. “I hope you aren’t upset that I stole your dance partner.” She said jokingly. The brunette elf laughed uncomfortably.

“Ah… No, not really.” She replied. She explained that she’d been sent to that wing by Briala, likely knowing she would face danger. Era was unsure of what advantage having this woman would provide, but she sent her to Cullen all the same to keep safe.

A search of the room yielded nothing, and after checking several locked doors, they found themselves following a short corridor off the room they found the elven woman in.

They came to a small courtyard, where a Fereldan man yelled in fear of the Fade rift looming above him and the terrors falling out of it. Era quickly leaped to it, surprised to find Florianne not far away from them.

The Grand Duchess revealed her plans to assassinate Celene and incriminate Gaspard, leaving the group to face the Fade Rift. “ _Fenedhis_!” Era swore, unstrapping her staff from her back. “Why is there a Fade rift in the Winter Palace?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Red!” Varric shouted over the sound of screeching demons, taking Bianca into his hands.

This time, the Venatori and demons were thankfully dispatched with ease, and after talking to the mercenary, Era tore back through the lower levels of Halamshiral, fighting another group of Venatori in what looked to be a small chantry and making her way back into the vestibule, then the ballroom.

“Maker’s breath, there you are.” Cullen said by way of a greeting. “The empress is going to give her speech soon. What should we do?” He asked. Era smiled.

“Nothing. I’m going to speak with the Duchess.” She said coolly, and Cullen looked at her quizzically.

He argued at first, though allowed the Inquisitor to all but saunter into the ballroom toward the landing where Florianne and Gaspard stood.

“We owe the court one last dance, Your Grace.” She called, almost merrily. The blonde turned to look at her in barely concealed surprise. Era stood before the woman, publicly exposing her and disgracing her before the entire court.

“Take her away.” She said once her case had been brought before all of Orlais’ most influecial nobles and the Grand Duchess was all but dragged from the court by a quartet or royal guards.

Era managed to get Celene , Gaspard and Briala on one of the outer balconies where she used the evidence she had collected to incriminate Gaspard for a conspiracy of his own to murder Celene, stating Briala as her accomplice and reuniting the Empress with her elven lover.  

Era knew Cullen and Leliana had suggested allowing Gaspard to take the throne, but with his warmongering she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She remembered what she’d seen in the Exalted Plains, the men dug into the trenches, bodies coming alive—none of that would have happened if he hadn’t pressed for war against Celene.  She couldn’t let that continue as he warred against Ferelden or anywhere else to retake lost land and glory.

* * *

 

Era desperately needed air.

 Nobles surrounded her on all sides, interested in the night’s machinations and her “affair”. After her favorite brandy ran out, Era found a way to finally slip away from the group and made her way to one of the balconies where she happily took in the scent of the cool, damp night air.

Era hadn’t heard Morrigan approach until she spoke, but the raven mage was at least someone she was willing to tolerate. She wasn’t surprised when Morrigan announced that Celene had offered her services to the Inquisition, and graciously welcomed her. The raven mage left Era in peace after giving her the news, letting her reflect on the night and take a well-needed break from the ceremony.

“Ah, Inquisitor, I’ve been waiting to meet you all evening.” Came a distinctly Orlesian male voice. She looked over, recognizing the owner of the voice as one of the men who had found her in the Grand Library just hours ago. “Last I saw you, you were… indisposed.” He simpered, and as Era turned around fully, he stood before her, practically looming over her lithe, elven form. The comment embarrassed Era as she thought about it, a brighter blush rising to her already alcohol-flushed cheeks.

“I, ah, yes.” She stammered ever-so-eloquently and looked away from the Orlesian nobleman nervously. “Nothing interesting, I assure you.”

“I find it very interesting.” The man drew closer, putting his hands on the rail on either side of Era’s slender frame with his face inches from hers. His breath was warm and reeked of Orlesian wine, making Era turn her face from him. “Ser. What are you doing?” She asked, trying to resist the urge to shock him then and there. The assassination plot may have concluded but she was certain she could still ruin their reputation with such an impulsive move.

“Well, after seeing you earlier it appeared as though you enjoyed… rolling with noblemen, hm?” He whispered. “Makes sense, given your… elven nature, yes?” Era squirmed as he leaned in, his lips against her neck. “Of course you would strive for something above your own station.” The whispers send gooseflesh crawling across her skin and filled her stomach with twisting sickness.

“S-stop.” She protested, trying to get out of his grip. The man grabbed her wrist tightly, holding her there and crushing her already sore back against the railing with his own weight. “L-let me go!”

“Be a good girl and stop playing hard to get. It’s most unsightly.” The man said his voice low and dangerous as he leaned to claim her lips. Era turned her head away again and his free hand grasped her jaw and forced her lips to his in a rough kiss, biting her bottom lip possessively.

Era’s fingers crackled and sparked as she prepared a lightning spell, wanting to fry the noble where he stood but she lost the will to do so once she felt the cool touch of metal against her throat. If the man was hoping to frighten her into submission, it worked. If she died now it could fracture the Inquisition. She shut her eyes tight and braced herself for the worst, silently giving thanks to the Creators for the tragedy that left her barren. She would not have this bastard’s child.

However, when Era finally looked she found Cole with one of his blades wedged between them, the edge pressed so firmly to the noble’s throat that blood beaded around the blade. “Let go.” He commanded, cool eyes staring into back of the noble’s head and his voice low with anger. “You’re hurting her.” Slowly, the man released her and backed away, bowing curtly before returning to the ballroom. “…Are you all right?” He asked Era, the angry edge in his voice replaced with soft, soothing worry and concern. The Inquisitor felt her legs turn to jelly for the second time that night.

“Y-yes. Ma serannas.” She answered, her voice shaky and quiet. The blond cupped Era’s face gently, running his thumb over her abused bottom lip; a red bruise sat where the noble bit her. She shivered at his touch, a blush heating her cheeks again. “It’s okay, he bit me and it hurts but I’ll be just fine.” He nodded quietly, watching after the noble that had attempted to abuse her.

“He thinks you’re beautiful and wants to take, touch, taste. It didn’t matter that you said no.” He said angrily. Era gingerly wrapped her arms around the taller man, sighing softly.

“Cole, it’s done. Relax.” She whispered, and the spirit took a breath.

“He might hurt someone else. He’s angry I stopped him.”

“How about I have Leliana take care of it?” Era asked as she released Cole. He nodded and she took his hand and led him toward the red-headed spymaster. She couldn’t wait to return to Skyhold.


	13. Subjected to His Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era struggles with the decision about Cole's status as a spirit.

“Inquisitor?” Era heard Josephine call from the bottom of her stairs. She had woken up only moments ago, but looking outside Era could tell it was past midday. She heard the distinct sound of delicate feet in heeled shoes tapping the whole way up the stairs and was greeted by the familiar sight of their ambassador, clipboard and quill in hand.

“Hello, Josephine.” Era yawned, sitting up in her bed. “I apologize, I must have slept in.” The Antivan laughed softly in response.

“It is well deserved, Your Worship.” She said, smiling in her usual pleasant way. “I would have been tempted to let you sleep longer given your recent victory at the Halamshiral, but you asked me to let you know the moment the amulet arrived.”

 Era was out of bed in a moment, tugging her clothes on haphazardly with Josephine watching in quiet embarrassment. “ _Andraste_ , I didn’t realize you would be so excited about it.” It was Era’s turn to feel embarrassed and the snowy elf slowed her actions, pulling a grey shirt and black leathers over her smalls.

“Sorry.” Era said with a nervous laugh. “I just know Cole was fretting over the idea that he could be bound by Corypheus or his men, so I’m eager to get the amulet to him.” She said, grabbing her silver brush from her desk and running it through her hair quickly. “Just leave it wherever and I’ll get it to him as soon as possible. Thank you again, Josephine.”  The Ambassador nodded, leaving the amulet on Era’s desk before returning to the antechamber.

Without bothering to put her hair in its usual braid, Era jogged down her stairs, through the throne room, across the courtyard and up to Cole’s usual spot in the Herald’s Rest.

* * *

 

A time later, Era, Varric and Cole found themselves in the middle of Redcliffe, not far from the monument erected in honour of the Hero of Ferelden for her efforts during the Blight a decade ago. The stone-carved griffon sat fierce and proud in the middle of the town. Era wondered if it watched the town, in a way, like the Hero had so long ago, but she knew it was just stone and likely couldn’t do so.

Between the two large torches on the side of the stone griffon, two men stood talking in hushed whispers. One man, mustached and slightly tanned wore plain, brown clothes and a cap, while the other, a dwarf, was clad in armor. “Yes, this should get me through the month,” She heard the mustached man say, his head turned toward them as they approached.

The rest of Redcliffe was eerily still despite it still being day. The people who usually stood around the buildings and statue were oddly absent, leaving the dwarf, the man, and the Inquisitor’s group the only ones in the square. “Give me a moment.” The man walked toward the group, surprisingly friendly. “Greetings,” He called to the group. “Can I help you?” He asked as they drew closer. Era could practically feel the tension in Cole as his eyes fell upon the man in anger.

“You.” His voice was low with something she didn’t recognize, something she was sure she’d never heard in Cole’s voice before. Era practically felt the veil crackle against her skin as Cole teleported from beside her to just steps from the man in an instant leaving thick, black smoke in his wake.

She was grateful that for once, Cole didn’t have his daggers strapped to his back. He could easily have drawn them in the heat of his anger, killing the man in an outburst of emotion. With a swift movement, the spirit knocked the man to his knees and loomed above him, hand holding his head and the other held above as if prepared to rip his heart from his chest.

Era didn’t know if Cole could do such a thing, but she certainly didn’t want to find out. The man in brown cried out, shaking and raising his hands in retreat. “You _killed_ me.” A growl came from the blond spirit, and Era shuddered as she over to them.

“Wh-what?” The man said in fearful confusion. “I don’t… I don’t even know you!” He cried, terrified. Cole’s eyes remained on him, angry and intense and the closer Era got to Cole, the more her stomach twisted and the harder her heart pounded against her chest.

She remembered Solas’s friend, the spirit of Wisdom turned to a Pride demon. When that spirit was killed, Solas had told her that spirits sometimes returned, but without much of their previous memories or personality. It seemed unlikely to her that Cole had been killed—if he had, he definitely wouldn’t have remembered it.

“You forgot.” Cole’s voice came frantic and angry, still pinning the man on his knees with his hand, looking very much like a wild animal about to strike. “You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire and you forgot, and I died in the dark!” His voice grew louder. _Wait, where did he get that knife?_ Era stared at the raised hand clutching the shiny hilt of an ornate blade, raised and ready to strike.

“Fenedhis _!_ ” She cried under her breath.

“The Spire?” The man said questioningly. Era was about to call out, but Solas beat her to it.

“Cole, stop.” He called as they met up beside him. Era’s breath came in heavy puffs but Solas seemed barely winded by the effort it took to reach Cole and his potential victim. With the spirit distracted, the man took off in a frantic run with the angry spirit prepared to follow.

Varric managed to get in front of Cole, stopping him. “Just take it easy, Kid.”

“He killed me!” Cole cried, pointing at the fleeing man. “He killed me. That’s why it doesn’t work!  He killed me and I have to kill him back!” The blond said, distressed and almost beyond reason in his anger.

“Before anyone gets killed, I need to know what’s going on.” Era said gently, though she didn’t know how to calm the spirit.

“Cole, this man cannot have killed you.” Solas said coolly. “You are a spirit. You have not even possessed a body.” He came to stand beside the youth who turned away from him, head bowed sadly. 

“A broken body,” He started. “Bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank.” Cole’s head bowed, hat obscuring his face. “A captured apostate.” Solas remained stoic, but Varric was visibly moved as the weight of Cole’s words set in. “They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He  _starved to death_ .” Era’s heart clenched painfully and she stepped closer to the group. Varric closed his eyes and lowered his head sadly. “I came through to help… and I… couldn’t. So I became him. Cole.”

Varric shook his head, looking sympathetically at Cole and speaking softly. “If Cole was an apostate, that’d make the guy we just saw a Templar. Must’ve been buying lyrium.” He deduced, looking between the Inquisitor and Cole.

“Let me kill him. I need to… I need to.” Era shuddered again at the darkness in his voice, looking at him sadly as he paced away from them. Varric and Era both moved closer to Solas, though she couldn’t keep her eyes off the spirit, fearful he wouldn’t wait for an answer and would simply kill the man.

“…What do you think, Varric?” She asked, looking to the blond dwarf with worried ocean-blue eyes.

“The kid’s angry, he needs to work through it.” At this point, Solas was a little more than irritated with Varric’s idea that Cole could become human.

“A spirit does not work through emotions, it embodies them!”

“But he isn’t a spirit, is he? He made himself human, and humans change.” Varric urged. “They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person.” He suggested.

“You would alter the essence of what he is.” Solas said in an almost accusatory manner.

“He did that to himself when he left the Fade,” Varric answered. “I’m just helping him survive it.” Era sighed, putting a slender hand to her forehead as she fretted over the right course of action. She had no idea what would come of either idea. Letting Cole forgive the Templar and becoming more like what he was, or having him work through the problem and possibly becoming more human in the process if that was even possible. She looked to the pair of pair of older men in front of her, then to Cole as he still paced anxiously not far away.

Era was worried, to say in the least. Spirits she had encountered often held short memories and would not recall her even if she saw them multiple times, or would forget things that had nothing to do with their purpose. She wasn’t sure why, but her heart pulled and her stomach tied itself in knots at the idea of Cole losing part of himself in becoming a spirit. She liked the talks they had, reading to him and just relaxing in comfortable silence. _Would a spirit still enjoy those things?_  But did Cole even enjoy them to begin with, she wondered? Had she just deluded herself into thinking he enjoyed her company when he was only trying to help?

Era also recalled Cole after Adamant, how shaken he’d been by returning to the Fade and how terrified he was of killing innocent people or becoming a demon. _Would he remember that fear as a spirit? Or would he forget and go back to killing people if he was drawn back through the Fade?_ Era shivered. She didn’t want that for him. But was wanting that selfish? She had to do _something_. What would help him?

“Solas?” She asked the elder elf, looking to him with her inner turmoil completely unmasked on her face.

“We cannot let Cole kill the man-” Era almost slapped herself in the forehead.

“Fenedhis! Of course not.” She interrupted, and Varric shook his head.

“I don’t think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles.”

“Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose.” He explained. “To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.”

“Come on!” Varric sighed. “You don’t just forgive someone _killing_ you.” He argued.

“ _You_ don’t. A spirit can.” Era shook her head. The older men bickering around her was not helping matters. She thought the situation over and even had them explain Cole’s problem again to help her think it through the decision. Eventually, she looked to Varric.

“All right, Varric.” She said, her voice quiet and uncertain. She gestured to have him help Cole work through the problem and watching as the dwarven rogue approached the blond boy, taking him to the Templar. She ignored the irritated sigh she earned from Solas in response.

Era watched with quiet interest as Varric led Cole to where the Templar had cornered himself; Varric took Bianca from her rest on his back and handed her to Cole, urging the boy to kill the Templar. The taller, younger man took the crossbow and eagerly pointed it at his killer, but the bow fired no bolts when he pulled the trigger with a frustrated yell.

When it was done, they took the quiet, contemplative spirit back to Skyhold. When they arrived, Cole left them for a while, leaving the group. The remaining trio discussed what happened, eventually moving to other things before conversation inevitably returned to whether their resident spirit would be safe from binding.

Just as Varric started to assure Solas that the amulet wasn’t necessary anymore, Cole dragged himself in the room clutching his stomach and looking like he’d been stabbed. “It still hurts.” He said quietly as he came to them. “When do I stop hurting?” He asked sadly, and Era found herself smiling despite feeling bad for him.

“Being with your friends will help,” She said, gently putting her hand on his shoulder before Varric took over.

“Come on Kid, let’s go for a walk.” He suggested gently to Cole. “It’ll help clear your head.” The taller blond lowered his head.

“The left hand misses the friend with two different names. She’s hurting, sad, alone, but…”  He stood a little straighter, looking toward Varric. “Everyone can see me now. They remember. How do I put honey in Leliana’s tea without her noticing?” He asked.

“I can help with that,” Varric said helpfully, leading the uncertain looking boy out of the room and leaving Era and Solas alone.

“It is good that he is not entirely changed, however human he becomes.” Solas said as Varric and Cole passed into the throne room. Era agreed.


	14. Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Varric get some air.

“Is there something else eating you, Kid?” Varric asked as he and Cole leisurely ascended to the battlements. Cole was eerily quiet, eyes downcast and contemplative as they walked.

“Yes.” He started before pausing thoughtfully. “Sort of.” Varric glanced over his shoulder to the lighter-blond who followed not far behind him, raising a brow curiously.

“What is it?” He asked. Cole’s face contorted in thought, seeming to need time to sort himself out.

“Sorry. I…” Cole sighed, a hand resting on the brim of his hat. “It’s different, now. I make more noise myself, but I can still hear everything else, if they’re loud enough.” He shook his head a little. “I was thinking about the ball.”

“What about it? Red said you had a lot of trouble with the lies and masks. Orlesian politics are shitty, but they make for good tales.” Varric stopped once they stood in the area where he’d first introduced Hawke to Era. He managed to pull himself atop the wall that faced the courtyard, Cole following his lead and sitting perhaps a foot and a half away from him, legs dangling over the ledge. Thoughtfully, the boy ran his fingers over his lips before looking to Varric.

“Era came to visit me after I hid in the library.” He started, looking back to the people in the courtyard. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. Two nobles found us.” If Varric knew where he was going, he said nothing, letting Cole work through his mind to figure it out. “Era kissed me, she was scared they’d catch her looking for things… and then she ran away.”

“Right, I heard about that.” Varric said with a soft chuckle. “A bunch of the guests seemed pretty interested in the rumor. What’s got you thinking about it?”

“I…” Cole stopped, looking both confused and thoughtful. “I didn’t think about it at first. Now it feels… strange.” Varric shot him a quizzical look. “Like fear, but... Not like it. Butterflies floating, fluttering, flying free, but then I remember her running and it feels like wrong. She thought it was wrong to do it and it hurts.” Varric found himself smirking.

“Sorry, Kid, that’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself.”

“Why?” Cole asked, and the dwarf chuckled.

“Having confusing feelings about people is part of being a person,” He said only half-jokingly, and Cole gave a dismayed sigh.

“But I want to _know_.”

“Everyone always does, Kid.”


	15. Dinner in Val Royaeux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era and Cole have dinner (or lack thereof) in Val Royeaux.

“Hey Cole,” Era greeted as she approached the once spirit in his usual spot, a warm smile on her face. “Want to do something fun?” She asked and the boy’s face scrunched with obvious confusion.

“I… don’t know,” He answered. “I’ve never tried.” Era giggled, gently taking his arm and tugging in a way that would not forcibly move him, but indicated that she wanted him to follow.

“Come _on_.” She urged gently, excitedly, and the blond quietly agreed.

Cole was surprised when he found himself in the middle of Val Royeaux. Though Era had been there many times and enjoyed herself, he had less than fond memories of the city, having spent a lot of time in the White Spire that stood visible almost anywhere in the city, looming over him like a cloud of despair and bad memories. Still, the Dalish woman found herself there often, looking for schematics, commissioning decorations or browsing the bookshops to fill her personal and communal libraries.

Era delighted in the small cakes and cookies, the vases and statues and wonderfully decorated buildings, though she hated the fancy dress and carefully calculated behavior of the nobility. Thankfully the illustrious leader of the Inquisition was able to avoid most of the Grand Game. “Why are we here?” Cole found himself asking as they walked past the large monument in the middle of the square and toward one of Val Royeaux’s outdoor restaurants. A lady bard played music nearby, singing songs of Era’s victories.

He listened to the sounds Era made as she listened, humming and singing along with an eager smile on her face. The host noticed Era from the doorway and almost eagerly rushed to greet them. “Inquisitor! You honor us with your presence,” He said, his voice surprisingly lacking the usual thick Orlesian accent they were accustomed to hearing. “May I bring a sampling of find cheeses for you and your guest?” He offered.

“I don’t eat.” Cole said flatly and Era rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. The host stared at Cole oddly before offering them a bottle of wine and getting them seated. They sat at a small, lovely wooden table with two chairs covered in ornate carvings.

“Please enjoy your meal this evening, Your Worship.” The host said as they sat, leaving to get their wine. As the host disappeared behind the door, Cole sat looking something between concerned and confused.

“He saw me.” He said. “They all see me.” Era smiled.

“I’m glad you allowed them to.” She said, leaning one elbow on the table and sitting her head in her hand as she looked at the man.

“I don’t know if I did.” Cole said, a tinge of worry in his voice, though he relaxed slightly. “I find people when their pain leaves them open, I ease the pain, I leave, they forget.” He said as the host returned with the wine, setting it on the table with a couple of glasses.  “That was enough for me. Now they remember, and I’m not sure…” He made a noise like a soft sigh before chuckling quietly to himself. Era looked at him curiously.

“Cole?”

“I told you about Rhys, the mage who could see me. My friend.” He said, and Era nodded. She remembered despite Cole’s wishes, she had Cullen track Rhys down and had even ended up rescuing him. “My only friend, for a long time.” He paused, but only briefly. “Evangeline showed me that Templars could be kind, but even she…” He sighed softly, his head bowing slightly as his eyes closed.

“Cole, if this is hurting you, we don’t have to talk about it…” Era staid, reaching out like she wanted to reassure him, but realizing she couldn’t quite reach, her hand retreated and sat neatly in her lap instead.

“Gentle.” Cole said with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Era felt her face heat just slightly as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. “You watch me walk into darkness over and over, and you always worry.” He said with an amused chuckle. “Thank you.” He paused again, and his hat sat obscuring most of his face. “But this isn’t about them. It’s about…” Era watched Cole intently. “When I found out I wasn’t human, when I grew, I lost Rhys. I lost my only friend.” He explained. “That’s why I was scared about letting all these people see me. That’s why I laughed.” The elf’s brows knotted in confusion as she looked at Cole.

“You’re laughing at yourself?” She asked curiously, not sure if she understood.

“Yes.” He answered. “This world taught me that changing means losing your friends.” He smiled again, less brief and more obvious than the last. “But now I know that doesn’t have to be true. I have enough self to know that what I felt was foolish, isn’t that wonderful?” He asked.

“I’m glad you know that you won’t lose your friends now,” Era said, smiling herself.

“I might like being human. What do you think I’ll learn next?” Cole asked, and her grin turned to a smirk.

“Eating, perhaps?” She said, only partly joking.  Cole made a sound much like a young child spitting up food it didn’t like, and she laughed. “Maybe wearing clean clothing with no holes?” She teased, and Cole looked down at his patched, dirty looking shirt in confusion.

“What’s wrong with them?” He asked, and Era rolled her eyes as she remembered the conversation she’d had with him just before the ball.

“Cole, you look like a homeless person. I told you this. Dorian told you this.”

“…Aren’t I homeless?” He asked, and Era wasn’t sure if he was serious or not.

“I—…” She didn’t have much of a response to that. After the time she’d spent with the Inquisition, she considered Skyhold her home and she’d hoped the others did too. Did Cole not consider Skyhold home?

When the once spirit chuckled quietly, the Inquisitor looked at him curiously, not quite able to shake the worry that Cole didn’t feel at home within Skyhold.

“I was joking. You looked very worried.” Era shook her head with an unmistakable pout.

“That was mean.” She whined, acting more offended than she truly was, but when Cole apologized, she laughed in turn and apologized as well before enjoying some wine under the gentle warmth of the sun.


	16. Sulahn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole makes a strange request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's probably a little longer than it needs to be? I liked a lot of the set-up so I left it.

Era sighed as she exited the war room, crossing the throne room to reach the stairs to her quarters. Her whole body felt sore from the stress of trying to plan troop movements into the Arbor Wilds; a vast forest unknown to most people and wholly unsafe for those who entered. She swore if her hair hadn’t been white naturally, it would be greying from stress. She gracelessly threw her door open, tiredly dragging herself up the stairs and throwing herself onto the comfort of her bed.

Throwing herself on her bed would have been fine, if someone hadn’t been sitting there already.

Era and whomever she landed on grunted at the impact, her face hitting their chest with an audible _thud_ and her body crushing painfully against theirs. She sat up after taking a moment to right herself, her legs woven between theirs. She realized that she’d landed on Cole her cheeks flushed and she laughed nervously. “Oh! Ir abelas, Cole.” She apologized, shuffling to sit beside the blond she had knocked over. “Are you all right?” She asked, and the boy stared at her quizzically, his cheeks stained red, though lighter than hers.

“Yes.” He answered, and Era tilted her head.

“Why are you in here?” She asked. “I wasn’t expecting to um… bump into you, as it were.” She hadn’t expected Cole to laugh since he seldom reacted to puns. He chuckled quietly and Era found herself smiling at the sound.

“I wanted to ask something.” Cole said as Era made herself comfortable on one of the edges of her bed, her back leaning against the nearest poster.

“Alright, what is it?” The Inquisitor asked,

“When we went to where your husband was buried, you, ah…” Cole paused, thinking. “You sang something—I… might have too, but I wasn’t listening. It helped the hurt, so I did it. I didn’t think about it.” He said and Era tilted her head again.

“Yes, it’s an elven eulogy for those who have passed on.” She explained. “You found it in my memories before, right? What about it?”

“I don’t remember where I heard it.” Cole answered, leaving Era a bit confused. “Do you sing other songs? You sang in Val Royeaux, but it was quiet.” Era nodded, still looking at him curiously. “I wasn’t listening to your voice. I want to, now that I can hear it better.” She blushed faintly.

“What, you came up here and waited in my room for that?” Era teased despite her flushed face. “Could have saved us a few bruises by waiting outside the War Room, hm?” Cole looked decidedly flustered by her remark.

“I—Sorry…” He said, almost meekly.  The elf giggled.

“It’s okay, Cole. I was just playing with you.” She said softly. “What brought this on, though?” The blond looked pensive, opening and closing his hands slowly.

“I’m not sure.” He answered after a long silence. “I like the stories that you read, and songs are like stories… Only, not. They carry something older, something bigger…” Another pause. “And… I think it would be nice.” He looked almost sheepishly as he admitted it and Era smiled.

“Alright.” She said, climbing off the bed and standing with a full-body stretch. “I have an idea. Can you gather everyone and see if they’re willing to come to the tavern?” She paused briefly, before adding: “I don’t mean literally everyone. Just Varric and the others… Cullen, Josephine and Leliana too.” Cole nodded. “I’m going to talk to Maryden and Cabot while you do that, okay?” She paused again before walking to her desk and writing on a piece of parchment and signing it, handing Cole the parchment. “If they question you, just show them this.” She said, picking up the coin pouch and fastening it to her belt, along with her book.

Without further instruction, Era left Cole behind as she jogged down her stairs to the tavern. With a few words, she handed her pouch of coins to Cabot, went up to ask Sera to join her, doing the same for Bull and Krem who were seated at their usual places on the bottom floor of the Herald’s Rest. When she finished, Era gently interrupted Maryden when she finished her song. She sat on the barrel beside the brunette bard, book in hand. Once Maryden agreed to help, Era flipped to the backmost pages of her book where hand-written musical notation, instructions and elven stood out, black ink against blanched paper.

“Aneth ara.” Era greeted as some of her inner circle started to file in. She still sat on the barrel next to the brunette bard, smiling eagerly. “Just find a table or wherever to sit. I paid for drinks.” Josephine was the first to approach Era.

“Forgive me, Inquisitor, but what are we doing?” She asked. The elf smiled more, if she could.

“We’ve all been stressed as we try to plan our route for the Arbor Wilds. I wanted to do something to give all of us a bit of a break, since we’ll be leaving mere days from now.” She explained. “Sit, ambassador, and enjoy yourself a little. You’ve all been working as hard, if not harder than me, and you deserve it.”  This was said loud enough for the rest of the group to hear over the bar noise, though she made a point not to shout as if she were barking orders. “I want all of you here with me, even if you’re not drinking. We need to relax and have some fun.” She paused before looking at Cullen who stood at the back of the group gathered around her—everyone she’d wanted now in attendance, even Solas who stood quietly near the doorway. “Especially you, Commander.” She teased, bringing laughter from the rest of the group.

Even from her position, Era could see Cullen’s face redden from the joke and she smiled. “I would have done this the night before we march, but I’m sure we’ll all need to be well-rested for that, so tonight will have to do.” Once she finished talking, the members of her inner circle and group of advisors—sans Leliana, she noticed—took seats around the tavern, getting drinks and already chatting amongst themselves. Varric had pulled Cole to a table with Sera and Blackwall, Solas not far away. Cullen sat with Josephine, Bull, Krem and Dorian at the next table, and the rest of the area was soon populated by Sutherland and his company, as well as the Chargers, which Era was more than fine with.

She delicately hopped off the barrel she sat on, and as if on cue, Maryden began to play her lute. The song was one she played often, though slower and higher than her usual paying. Era smiled, and where Maryden would normally have begun the song, she did instead, her voice stronger than she felt, and all eyes in the tavern immediately went to her. Era shivered under the sudden attention, but continued anyway, closing her eyes and instead trying to keep her voice smooth and strong. The song was familiar, but sung in Elvish rather than the common tongue.

Era had sung for her clan before, during times of sadness or when she had to help Keeper Deshanna and the Hahren with funeral rites; part of the responsibilities she had been meant to take on as First. It helped to imagine her clan at first, her family. But slowly Era realized that the Inquisition had become her family and she had nothing to fear from them. When she finished, Era opened her eyes and looked out at her friends, cheeks burning under their watchful stares. “ _Creators_.” She said with a sigh. “That was more embarrassing than I thought it would be going into this.” She was surprised when they started clapping suddenly, but it only served to further darken her cheeks.

After downing a cup of her favorite peach brandy, Era sang a few more times—one song in Elvish and the rest in the King’s Tongue to keep them relevant to the others. When she was done, she grabbed a bottle of peach brandy from Cabot and a cup, sitting in the empty seat beside Varric. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I feel like I might faint.” She admitted, pouring herself a cup of the brandy and drinking half of it down with ease.

“I dunno Red, you did a good job.” Varric chuckled. “At least it wasn’t me they had to listen to, right?” Era laughed in return.

“That is true.” She admitted, smiling at Cole across the table. “So, Cole, how was that?” She asked. The ex-spirit flushed slightly at the question, his gigantic hat covering most of his face.

“It was nice.” He said simply. Era giggled, the alcohol already starting to affect her. “It made you happy to do it, I’m glad.” The elf smiled again, sipping the remaining half of her drink.

“So, where’d you get this idea?” Varric asked.

“Ah, Cole mentioned wanting to hear me sing since he’s able to hear it better without hearing everyone else.” She explained. “So I thought it might be nice to do it with everyone else, too.” She said, setting her elbow on the table and leaning her head in her hand. “Last time he heard me sing, it was a funeral rite for my husband so it was a sad memory.” Sera and Blackwall both turned from their conversation to stare at Era.

“What, her gracious ladybits was married?” Sera asked. Era nodded. “That seems important, yeah? Like something everyone should know?” She said in an almost accusatory manner, Era swirled her drink in her glass.

“I wasn’t really ready to talk about it. It’s been a while now, and I’m liquored up, so it’s easier.” She said, sipping the drink. “He died a bit before the Conclave. I’m not sure _now_ is the best time to talk about it, though.” Era said with a shrug. “I wanted this to be a happy occasion, not a ‘hey lets be a wet towel’ one.” Sera laughed at the last part.

“Right, but you said we’re your _friends_.” The blond elf replied, mirroring the way Era sat with her head in her hand. “Friends talk. You asked me to share, you should too, yeah?”

“She has a point.” Blackwall added and Era sighed softly before laughing.

“All right. You guys really want to hear it?” She asked, and when she received multiple affirmative nods she rolled her eyes playfully and leaned back a bit in her seat. “When I was about ten, we got a bunch of new members to the clan—most children. Many of them were mages.” She started. “I became fast friends with a few—a boy named Adahlen and a girl named Eluvia were my closest friends. Adahlen came from another clan that had too many mages, and Eluvia was a really young run away from one of the Free Marches’ circles.”

“How young are we talking here?” Varric asked curiously.

“…About the same age as me. She was nine or ten.” Era answered.

“How did a kid just… get away from the Templars?” He asked. The snowy elf looked uncomfortable.

“She was escorted by another mage, an elderly woman. She brought a few elven mages to us—ranging from nine or ten to almost twenty years of age.” She explained before looking at the table. “Anyway, that’s a tale for another time.” Era stated before continuing. “Me and Adahlen had been attached at the hip since he got there, and we spent a lot of time together as the Keeper and other mages in the clan helped us with our studies. We got our vallaslin just days apart and even went through the trials to become First together, along with other mages.” Sera’s face soured a bit at all of the ‘elfy’ stuff. “Anyway, we got married not long after I became First. I was only… seventeen, I think. Not very old, but I loved him and that was enough for me, I guess.”

“That _is_ young.” Varric confirmed, Era laughed softly.

“We waited to have a child until I was twenty.” She continued. “Giving us at least a year and a half to settle into married life and my duties as First.” Era leaned on her hand again, watching the bottom of her cup as she swirled around the remainder of her drink. “We were attacked by Templars when I was seven months pregnant.” The entire table, excluding Cole and Solas, looked at Era in surprise.

“Oh, _shit_.” Varric said bowing his head as the realization set in; she had no child with her and never mentioned one.

“Out clan had come to the Ferelden from the Free Marches to observe the Conclave, since the outcome of the mages would affect how careful we would have to be around the Templars. We had everything planned—we were sending a group of hunters and two mages to stand in on the negotiations to see what would happen to Dalish mages as a result.” She shook her head. “The Frostbacks are unforgiving to those not prepared for them, however, so we stayed in the Hinterlands instead of the mountains to keep warm and gather supplies...” Sighing, Era finished off her drink before pouring herself a new one. “I was gathering supplies when a group of the renegade Templars visited my clan. We were fine to trade with humans, unlike most clans, so my Keeper thought nothing of it until they set fire to several aravels and killed many of the mages and their families.”

“The Templars attacked your clan?” Blackwall said in surprise. “I knew they attacked the apostates and some refugees, but a whole camp of Dalish?”

“Why not? We’re savages that don’t worship the Maker, after all.” Replied sharply. “When I got back, I found my husband dying and our aravel destroyed. He tried to tell me to run, but I didn’t listen and a Templar ran me through with his blade.” She said lifting her shirt to show the nasty scar left on her stomach. “I managed to take a few down with me, but my husband and child both died.”

“Shit.” Varric repeated. Sera was unusually silent.

“So my Keeper sent me to the Conclave, by myself. I was a highly regarded representative of the clan personally wronged by the Templars and a mage. It also saved from sending a group of hunters into a potentially dangerous situation.”

“And then Coryphenus went and blew it to shite.” Sera said, causing Era to laugh.

“A lot of bad shit has happened to you, Red,” Varric said with a sigh. “to top that all off, you end up framed for blowing shit up, get hauled to seal the Breach, fight an evil magister asshole, try to seal the Breach again, get stomped on by an archdemon _and_ a mountain and after all that get made Inquisitor.” Varric said, shaking his head.

“Divine bad luck, right?” Era joked, remembering their conversation about whether or not she was the Herald of Andraste. The table chuckled uneasily. “Anyway,” Era drank down half her drink again. “I’m over it now, for the most part. I’ve had too much going on to focus on what happened with the Templars, and I’ve been surrounded by great friends.” She said, rather happily in contrast to the story she’d finished telling just moments ago.

“Raise ‘em for friends, yeah?” Sera said, putting her glass up. The Inquisitor followed, and soon so did the rest of the tavern. They spent most of the night drinking and telling ill-advised stories, happy for the well-needed celebration.


	17. Ghilani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be elvish here. Translations are in the end notes!

Era wasn’t quite sure how the night had gone from chatting, to celebration, to outright drunken idiocy but she was unable to contemplate it then. She was leaning against the doorframe of the tavern as she tried to get herself from the tavern, up the stairs of the main hold, to her door and up to the other stairs to her quarters without falling on her face. An unrealistic thing to accomplish for a drunken elf. Killing Corypheus by punching him in the nose seemed more realistic an idea in her state. Era grunted as she tried to right herself, and as she took an unsteady step out the door, she swiftly stumbled and fell to the ground.

Or, more appropriately, she would have fallen. The drunken elf was startled by an arm slipping under her frame just in time to keep her nose from colliding with the paving stones on the ground. Though it kept her from bashing her face off the ground, her stomach churned painfully and she gave a groan, the alcohol threatening to resurface from the impact. “Oh, sorry.” Came a gentle voice and the arm gently righted her, though Era clung to the person’s body to keep her legs.

“Ir isala halani.” Era couldn’t tell she was speaking Elvish, and to make matters worse, the alcohol greatly slurred her speech. “Ma ghilani mir ara.” Whoever helped her chuckled warmly, a soft, familiar rumble that she felt in her own chest. “Ir abelas, emma souveri sahlin… Ar isalan era…” She mumbled, rambling in her language as she leaned on whomever held her upright.

“I can’t help unless you stand up.” She heard her savior say and as she stood as straight as she could, she felt her arm be pulled around the person’s neck and an arm wrapped around her tiny waist to hold her up. Era was led to her destination, happily collapsing on her bed when they arrived though she dragged her helper down with her.

“Mm.” She groaned happily as she rubbed her cheek against her soft pillows. “Ma serannas, ma ghilani.” Era’s guide was helplessly trapped with their arm beneath her as she easily collapsed into sleep.

* * *

 

Era groaned as she opened her eyes. The light streaming through her windows blinded her and making her head spin and throb. She felt her stomach turn and became acutely aware of the weight on her and warmth beside her.

“What?” She said out loud, confused. She couldn’t remember much of last night, including returning to her quarters. Era would ordinarily worry that she’d done something stupid, but she felt her clothes intact if a bit messy from sleeping.

The way they were laying, her bed companion’s arm was wrapped snugly around waist and bent under her stomach, and her hand rested between their shoulder blades. She managed to turn her head to look at her companion and laughed softly as she realized it was Cole, again and wondered how she had managed such a thing.

The boy slept soundly beside her, likely having fallen asleep after realizing he couldn’t move her well. “Cole?” Era called softly, and his tired blue eyes opened to look at her. She moved her arm from his back and wiggled free of his arm with an amused smile. “We have to stop meeting like this, people will talk.” She joked, met with a familiar look of confusion and concern. “It was just a silly joke, Cole, don’t look so worried.” The blond sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking slowly. “So, what happened last night?” Era asked curiously. “To end up like this, I mean.” She clarified after.

“You were having a hard time walking.” Cole stated. “There was singing, then talking… then everyone drank and then when you tried to leave, you fell.” Era tilted her head. “I caught you, but you couldn’t get to your room. And then you fell over and wouldn’t move.” The elf laughed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Cole.” She apologized. “I didn’t mean to trap you, I’m sure.” Era stood up, stretching her various joints with a yawn. “I’m afraid I need you to go for a bit, though. I’m sure I need to bathe and I’ll be needed in the war room again after that.” The blond spirit nodded. “Thank you for carrying me back.” She said as Cole lifted himself from the bed and started down the stairs.

* * *

 

Era wasn’t exactly sure how hours later she ended up in the most awkward situation she could have imagined. She stood back pressed to the cold stone of the battlements with her Commander leaned over her, lips pressed firmly together. Era’s mind reeled as she stared wide-eyed at the blond, scrambling for an answer to how _exactly_ this had come to pass. They had been discussing their troop movements for the Arbor Wilds the next day, the morale of the troops… she couldn’t remember what had come next, but she wasn’t sure it had been _‘kiss me, Commander’_.

When Cullen finally pulled away, he saw her look of confusion and gave a nervous chuckle, hand on the back of his neck as he looked nervously to the side. “I suppose I must have mistaken your meaning, then,” He said and mutely, Era nodded, still searching for where in the conversation she had gone wrong. If there was something, she couldn’t find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some attempted translations for Era's drunken rambling:
> 
> Ir isala halani – I am in need (of) help  
> Ma ghilani mir ara – Guide me to my place.  
> Ir abelas, emma souveri sahlin… Ar isalan era … -- I’m sorry, I’m very weary right now. I want/need to dream.  
> Ma serannas, ma ghilani – Thank you, my guide
> 
> Most of this was done myself, but "Ar isalan era" was grabbed from here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883 
> 
> It wasn't a full line or direct quote but I used it for guidance after failing to find a suitable translation on my own, thus I want to give credit where it's due and direct others to fenxshiral's amazing work!
> 
> (I'm not very good with trying to do elven myself, hopefully it looks good?)


	18. Storm

Cole didn’t know _why_ he was so angry. He’d found an older woman standing on the balcony above the entrance to the throne room, sadly looking at the soldiers below. She was sad, and he wanted to help, so he spoke with her. He found that her youngest son had died not long ago, and he helped her feel less guilty about it. She had encouraged him to come to the Inquisition for work and he was slain by a Red Templar in battle, taking the Templar down with him as well and saving one of his comrades. Cole assured her that he had done a good thing, that in the end and that it wasn’t her fault and even if he couldn’t make her forget she left feeling better than she did before.

When Cole looked across to the battlements he spotted Era and Cullen walking just outside his office tower, speaking and reviewing a bundle of papers Era held in her hand. They came to a stop and Era leaned against the stone before Cullen had leaned in and claimed her lips.

At least, that was what it looked like. There was little else it could be, but given the distance Cole couldn’t truly tell. He turned and strode briskly away from the balcony, practically storming down the stairs and as he passed Varric, the dwarf dexterously caught his sleeve and pulled him back. “You look like a storm cloud, Kid, what’s going on?”

“Cullen kissed Era.” Cole said, his hands curling into fists before opening again. Varric gave a short laugh.

“You okay? Because I’m pretty sure you just said Curly…” When Varric examined Cole’s face and realized he wasn’t joking, he sighed. “Well, shit.” He said, scratching his head. “But what’s wrong with that exactly?” But Cole didn’t know. He wanted the Inquisitor to be happy. Era spent so much time helping everyone else and hiding little hurts through smart words and kind smiles. She deserved to be happy. Why was he so _angry?_

“I—I don’t know.” Cole admitted, hanging his head. His gigantic hat was missing, left behind in Era’s room after she shooed him out earlier that morning. The pair was surprised by the snowy haired Inquisitor running into the throne room, red-faced and in shock. Her eyes fell on the pair of blonds briefly, but rather than stop and greet them she ran to her room.

“Shit.” Varric mumbled as the blond ex-spirit tore his sleeve from Varric’s grip, storming back out the front door.

* * *

 

Era laid in her bed for a good portion of the day, her head buried in her pillows. Had she led Cullen on? She wasn’t sure. She had nothing but respect for their Commander, but she hadn’t even considered a relationship with him.

She wondered just how long Cullen had felt that way, her mind painfully dredging up every stolen glance and every moment he held her gaze just a little too long. “Creators, I’m a fool.” She sighed, rolling onto her side and spotting Cole’s hat sitting atop her pillows. Era sat up, lifting the floppy hat and turning it in her hands with a small smile. “I should give this back to Cole, I’m sure he’ll be missing it.” She whispered to no one.

Returning said had was easier said than done.

When Era made her way to the top of the Herald’s Rest, Cole was gone. She wandered around Skyhold, looking for him and when she finally found the blond spirit he disappeared in a flash and she found herself struggling to remember why she had been there.

With Cole’s ability to make people forget fading fast, Era shook the confusion from her mind and remembered she had come to return the hat to Cole. The hat was gone, as was the spirit, but she felt as though she had wronged him somehow. Perhaps he blamed her for making him more human?

Era made her way back to Skyhold’s main keep, stopping at Varric’s place by the fire. “What’s wrong with Cole?” She asked sadly. “I went to return his hat to him and he tried to make me _forget._ Did I do something to upset him?” Varric shrugged.

“The Kid’s angry. He needs to work it out.”  He offered. Era didn’t feel any better.

What had she done?


	19. March to the Arbor Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era's forced to leave Cole behind as she marches ahead into the Arbor Wilds.

Days later, Cole still wasn’t speaking to Era. She had approached him many times, only to find he either stormed away or tried to make her forget again. Thus, until they marched to the Arbor Wilds, Era buried herself in a mountain of work as she tried to push her hurt away. Absently, she wondered if it would be better to spend most of her time in isolation where she wouldn’t hurt those she cared for. A silly idea, given her position, but she wasn’t sure what else to do.

Era missed Cole’s company. She missed reading to him and talking to him about her home or about helping others and it hurt that he refused to talk to her. She didn’t understand.

She was unable to find Cole even when she needed to choose a party to follow her into the elven ruins. Varric explained that Cole was still angry, and that he would remain behind to help him work through it.

The absence of both Varric and Cole left Era with a problem. Sera was the only other rogue Era could bring, and for a journey into elven ruins it seemed like trouble to bring the Red Jenny along. She hoped that bringing Solas, Dorian, Cassandra and Iron Bull would be enough to get her through the thick of it. It would have to be.

* * *

 

When they finally did reach the main camp after several long days of marching with little rest in between, the battles grew thicker. Loud explosions shook the forest, filling it with smoke and heat and the clashing of swords and screaming of soldiers drowned out all wildlife around them. She watched as her men stood bravely against the Red Templars, and she helped wherever she could—keeping her men safe, helping with wounds and instructing scouts to find escorts and healers for those too badly wounded to continue. Pressing through the thick of the forest to reach the temple was the worst of it. A wrong turn got them lost and to make matters worse, odd, aggressive elves appeared in flashes of black smoke striking down both her men and Red Templars alike.

It was almost a relief when Samson and his men disappeared into the hole they’d made in the middle of the temple. They desperately needed a break and the few men he left behind to buy time were easier to manage than Samson and his entourage, which likely consisted of his best men.

With the Templar stragglers defeated, Era opted to continue through the rituals at Morrigan and Solas’ urging, hoping to disturb as little of the temple as possible as they passed through it. Thankfully, Era got through the rituals quickly and they entered the inner sanctum where they encountered the elves that likely guarded the temple. She accepted their offer of alliance and followed a guide around most of the fighting, glad for the help.

The fight with Samson was harrowing, even with the rune Dagna crafted. He was a strong-willed soldier who had only enhanced his natural abilities with the raw power of Red Lyrium, and instead of falling victim to its side effects, mastered the benefits. In time, however, they struck him unconscious—scouts would be instructed to sedate him once they arrived.

When Era finally stood at the edge of the well with Morrigan and Abelas, she wondered what knowledge the well held. It had stood for likely centuries as a place for elvhen before her to share all they had seen in their years. She wondered if she could restore even a fraction of what had been lost with the Well, in addition to defeating Corypheus, though she pondered the price as well. She observed as Morrigan pressed Abelas, asking her own questions when necessary and assuring him that they would not partake of the well without his consent. It seemed to finally be Solas that changed his mind—their conversation puzzled her, though it was not her foremost worry just then.

After Abelas left, Morrigan and Era argued briefly over who would drink. Morrigan insisted she would be the best, while Era argued that it was her heritage and that Solas had similar, if not better knowledge than Morrigan.

Ultimately, Era drank from the well—cold, overwhelming and hungry feeling as it was—and managed to open the eluvian as Corypheus spotted them and charged, angry and wild toward them. The eluvian sealed behind them before going dark as Corpyheus shattered it, and they fled into Morrigan’s eluvian at Skyhold.

* * *

 

Thankfully, none of her advisors had yet returned. Era’s mind was reeling from the Well. Whispers, images, memories flooded her mind and once she found her quarters, she collapsed on her bed, tightly clutching her pillow and burying her face in it as she cried in pain.

She regretted the decision to drink from the Well at least a little—she felt it was the right one, but the pain of the Well’s intrusion into her mind made it hard to think. Era had trusted Morrigan until she revealed that she had lied about how much she read at the first ritual—there had been no reason to hide the knowledge and even though Era liked Morrigan, it felt as though the wilder witch had a hidden, secret agenda and made her uneasy.

Another groan left Era as whatever had been in the Vir’Abelasan plucked at her mind, pulling memories apart to look at them and leaving its own memories behind wherever it saw fit. When some memories surfaced, she sometimes had trouble remembering whose they were, and she couldn’t tell which voice in her was her own—as she listened the voices, it was like listening to herself talk as someone else, but she was the other person, but also wasn’t.

She shuddered, finally understanding Cole’s meaning when he talked about being in the Fade: ‘ _It’s like looking at a picture of a picture of yourself, but you’re a picture, too.’_ In this case, when she looked at memories she was watching them from the outside and the inside, somehow. She was viewing and hearing the memories as though she was there, but she wasn’t there and it wasn’t her but it _felt_ like her. It was strange, wrong and terribly confusing.

Eventually, Era succumbed to the pain and found herself engulfed by darkness.


	20. Ma Halani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era struggles with the new voices from the Well of Sorrows.

Era was talking in her sleep. She writhed, crying, skin cold and covered with gooseflesh as her mind struggled to find itself through the voices from the Well. Cole stood above the sleeping Inquisitor, watching every movement as she slept—every pained spasm as her body reacted to whatever was going on in her mind right then, her chest as it rose and fell with harsh breaths and her brows as they knitted together in pain and concentration.

Cole heard her mind screaming even from the tavern. Too many voices, wanting, watching, but she was watching too. As a spirit, he might have been able to do something—to enter her mind, guide her through, but he couldn’t, not like this, not like _him_. It hurt worse than when he almost killed the Templar who locked the real Cole away.  He watched her, previous anger forgotten with the stabbing guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach.

“Just hold her hand, Kid,” Varric said as he came up the stairs. “Put more wood in the fire to keep her warm. She’ll be fine.” Cole wasn’t sure how he could be so certain—maybe he wasn’t, putting on a brave face to help Cole feel better, but it worked and Cole couldn’t hear it over Era. He did as Varric suggested, finding wood by the fire and tossing it in to heat the room, closing all of her doors but one to keep the air flowing. He sat by her, taking one of her pale hands hesitantly as Varric went back downstairs.

As strings of forgotten Elvish came from the snowy haired woman, the blond watched and listened, heart heavy with guilt. He regretted avoiding her before she left. She could have died and he avoided her because of his own stupid anger. She may still die, Cole reminded himself. She could die without knowing that he wasn’t angry anymore. “Not yet.” He whispered, unaware he had even done so outside of his thoughts.

Cole was startled when the pale hand he held trembled violently. “…Halani… Ma halani… Mana…” Era’s voice wasn’t her own at first, but when she repeated the same thing again, it was. Her pain became unbearably loud. Untrimmed nails dug into his hand so hard they broke the skin, her other hand clutching her blanket in a similar way as Era trembled from pain before her hand slackened and everything within her suddenly went silent.

The silence frightened Cole more than the pain. He didn’t care about his hand. “Era?” He cried out, one hand still holding hers and the other shaking her gently by her shoulder. He was relieved when the woman stirred and he heard the sound of Varric’s boots brushing the stone as he came back up the stairs.

“Kid? What’s going on?” He asked, and Cole looked over with an odd look of relief.

“I thought she died.” The younger blond answered.

“What?” Varric couldn’t come up with a smart remark for that, or anything, really.

“She’s fine—quieter, now. I think it’s over.” He said softly. Not long after, Era’s eyes fluttered open, glossy and dark. She blinked once, twice and then abruptly sat up looking to the pair of blonds in the room with her.

“Garas quenathra?” She asked, not seeming to realize she spoke in Evlish. “Ir tel’him _?_ ” A pause and Era brought her free hand to her forehead. “Ir tel’theneras. Mythal’enaste.”

“Red?” Varric said, looking at Era suspiciously. “We don’t speak elven.” The snowy haired Inquisitor looked at Varric quizzically before seeming to take his meaning. She felt the warmth of Cole’s hand around her own and glanced down, her cheeks tinging red before she noticed the bloodied marks where her nails had broken his skin.

“Oh _._ ” She whispered, her voice soft and sad. “Cole, did I do that?” Era asked, but knowing she had she gave Cole no time to answer. “I’m so sorry.” Her fingers glowed green as she healed the small wounds. “Did you sit here the whole time I was sleeping?” She asked, looking through her window to see the sky dark.

“Yes.” He answered simply, and Era sighed softly, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought you were angry with me. Why did you come?” She asked.  The blond hung his head a little, eyes sad like an injured mabari.

“I shouldn’t have been angry.” He answered quietly. “Foolish frustration festering when there should have been forgiveness. I’m sorry.”

“But why were you angry?” Era asked, looking at Cole forlornly. “I don’t know what I did. I don’t want to do it again.” She said softly. “I worried about it the whole march, whether I would forget you and return to find you gone.” Era paused, looking down at her blankets. “Are you angry that I made you more human?” Cole looked at her in surprise. The idea that she could have felt guilty for the decision hadn’t really occurred to him, he didn’t listen or hear as much, but now that he was listening, he felt it.

“No.” He said almost frantically. “It was good, you wanted to _help_ , not hurt. _Before was wrong, but that was when I didn’t know. I can’t not know again._ You remembered.”

“But it was selfish.” Era said quietly. “You said that spirits can’t learn and grow, and I… didn’t want to see you lose what you are now.” Cole laughed, and Era looked at him quizzically.

“Yes. That’s why you wanted me to grow. You didn’t want me to _forget_. You promised.” The elf nodded slowly. “I am me and I know enough not to become that again. Even if I do, you or Cassanra or Cullen will kill me.” Era nodded again.

“It would be hard,” She admitted. “You’re my… my friend, and… I couldn’t bear the thought. But I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

“I know.” Cole answered quietly.

When Varric and Cole returned downstairs a long while later, the dwarf looked to the waifish blond. “You know, Kid, you didn’t actually tell her why you were angry.”

“…I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations:
> 
> "Halani... Ma halani... mana..." - "Help... Help me... stop..."  
> "Gara quenathra?" - "Why are you here?"  
> "Ir tel'him?" - "I'm me/myself?"  
> "Ir tel'theneras. Mythal'enaste." - "Mythal's grace/blessing, I'm not dreaming anymore." 
> 
> (All of these are rough. I'm no expert ;-; )


	21. Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era helps Cole with his clothing choices.

“Inquisitor?” Varric called as he reached the top of Era’s stairs. It had been a week since her advisors returned form the Arbor Wilds and they’d discussed their plans regarding Corypheus and his dragon. The snow-haired elf glanced up to look at the dwarf, smiling.

“Aneth ara, Varric. What is it?” She asked, seeing the amused, yet troubled look on his face.

“So, you know how you asked us to get our gear to head out to the Hinterlands?” He asked and Era nodded. She had done a lot of work there with the refugees and Master Dennet, but she had yet to clear out the mercenary fortress that occasionally preyed upon passing caravans.

“Of course, I only gave the orders a few hours ago. Why?” She asked.

“I think you need to see this.” The dwarf said, and nodding, Era finished her work and set her quill in its rest. Sliding her staff over her shoulder, she followed the blond dwarf down the stairs and up to the room just above the tavern where Cole stood, looking at the pair curiously.

“What am I looking for, Varric?” Era asked. Looking Cole over, he was wearing a simple white cotton shirt that clung tightly to his arms and chest. Cole’s usual harness sat just below his pectorals, a mess of buckles and straps. “He’s missing his jacket?”

“Hey Kid, turn around.” Varric said, and with a puzzled expression, Cole did so and revealed. Era laughed as she spotted the open collar of the shirt that sat open on Cole’s back rather than his front. She had almost never seen Cole without his usual clothing or his jacket, so she’d never fully figured out why many of his shirts hung so strangely around his neck.

“Creators, Cole!” She giggled. “Your shirt is on _backwards_.” The waifish blond shrugged, turning back around to look at them.

“I always wear my shirt this way.” He responded.

“He won’t let me fix it.” Varric sighed. “Maybe you can.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m going to go finish getting Bianca ready to go.” The dwarf waved as he left the room, leaving the snowy elf alone with the ex-spirit.

“May I?” She asked, looking to Cole. With a sigh the blond consented, dropping his arms to his sides and watching as Era untangled the mess of leather and buckles. “Arms up.” She urged gently once she managed to get to the shirt below the buckles, and as Cole raised his arms.

Era removed the shirt stopping to examine his abdomen after she’d done so. She’d never seen Cole without a shirt before, and the sight was oddly fascinating. Despite being thin, he was muscular and his chest was littered with little scars, most thin and fading and only noticeable in the light. He was attractive, she admitted, though moments later she reminded herself that such a thought was wrong.

Era spotted Cole watching her as she looked him over. Her cheeks darkened with a blush and she quickly turned the shirt around, sliding it back on over Cole’s head. “This shirt’s a bit tight for you Cole...” She commented, looking over the fabric that pulled tight over thin, but muscular arms before tugging it with her fingers. “It must be hard to maneuver like that.” The blond merely shrugged and she shook her head with a sigh. “Come with me.”

Era allowed Cole gather the remainder of his armor before leading him back to the main hold and up to her quarters. Once there, she dug through her wardrobe before pulling out a large, blue tunic with ornate stitching around the neck and cuffs. She gingerly handed it to Cole and he looked at her curiously.

“It was my father’s. He used daggers like you do, so he liked his clothing big enough that he could hide blades in the sleeves and move around easily.” She explained. “It should fit. You’re not very wide, as far as humans go.” Era assured him, and Cole changed into it. The boy filled it out more than her father had, but even so it was still baggy and loose on him. “Better?” She asked, and moving his arms to test, the blond nodded. He replaced his harness and donned his coat and leather hand wraps.

“It feels lighter, looser. Thank you.”  Era smiled, giggling.

“Why didn’t you want Varric’s help with the shirt?” She asked.

“I didn’t think it mattered what way the shirt faced.” He answered, and Era laughed again, a bright and bubbly sound that brought a smile to the blond’s face.

“If Josephine had seen, we’d never have heard the end of it. _Inquisitor, you must present yourself as a professional!_ ” She joked, sitting on the edge of her bed as she looked the assassin over carefully. The boy tilted his head under her scrutiny.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Your armor, it’s mostly black.” Era answered, brows furrowed with thought.

“Yes…?” The snowy elf unraveled the bright red scarf that hung around her neck, looking at it for a time before standing and gingerly wrapping the scarf around Cole’s neck. The bright red fabric stood stark against the greys and blacks of his coat and leathers. The boy’s fingers found the scarf right away, and he seemed to focus on it for a moment before looking to the Inquisitor.

“You’re giving it to me?” He asked, and Era nodded, a small smile on her lips. “ _I’ll come back, I always will so long as you have this._ A pledge, promise made to keep her heart free of worry, but he means it and it makes her feel safe. I can’t take this.” Cole’s eyes looked down into Era’s, but the elf kept her smile.

“That’s why I want you to have it.” Her voice was soft, assuring. “I’ve given you a lot of reason to worry, and I want to give you this to let you know I’ll always come back.” The spirit nodded, but frowned slightly.

“He didn’t come back after a while.” He said, and the snowy elf laughed.

“It’s the intention, not the reality.” She explained. “I will always try to come back. I won’t walk knowingly to my death if it can be avoided.” The blond looked pensive, and slowly he removed his hat, setting it on Era’s head. She gave a breathy laugh in response, eyes filled with mirth at the gesture. She took the hat back off within moments and standing on her tip toes, placed it back on Cole’s head.

“Creators, Cole.” Era smiled. “Keep the hat. You don’t need to give me something back.” Still chuckling to herself, Era descended her stairs leaving Cole alone. His cheeks flushed as he looked at the scarf she left him.

“But I _want_ to.” He said quietly, but Era was already gone.


	22. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole finds some different gifts to give Era.

“You’ve been eyeing that scarf for a while, Kid.” Varric said, looking at the waifish blond as he held the red scarf Era gave him, thumbs running over the soft fabric with a thoughtful look. “What’s eating you?” The younger blond looked to the elder one. They returned to Skyhold not long ago and Cole sat on Varric’s table, his large hat covering most of his face and his usual disheveled shirt replaced by the blue one the Inquisitor had given him before they left for the Hinterlands.

“Era gave this to me.” Cole replied. “It was important to her. I want to give her something back.” The light-blond boy sighed. “I offered her my hat, but she laughed and said to keep it.” Varric chuckled.

“I don’t think she expected you to return the favor.” He said, thoughtfully rubbing his scruffy chin with his thumb. “She knows you love your hat. I’m sure she wouldn’t refuse something else.” He suggested.  The two sat in silence until Varric spoke again. “She likes things that remind her of home, doesn’t she?” Cole nodded. “I know this place in Val Royeaux. Last time we passed it had little halla figures and other elf made things. I think the merchant trades with a Dalish clan or something. It’s worth checking, right?” Again, the waifish blond nodded.

* * *

 

Val Royeaux towered above them as they passed through the gates, a city of glittering gold and polished stone. The lions from the center of the square watched the pair, ever vigilant, as they passed.

Varric found the store he mentioned, and as promised the man had an assortment of Dalish items: little wooden figures delicately carved into forms of wild sylvan and halla, books bound with ornate Dalish leather and iron bark, sets of paints, brushes and quills, amulets made of ironbark and many other items distinctly Dalish in make.

Varric had seen the outside of the shop, but was surprised to see just how much the merchant stocked. He absently wondered how he had managed to convince the nomadic Dalish to trade with him so freely, but attributed the success to the Empress’ love for elven trinkets.

Varric watched as Cole examined each item with a great deal of scrutiny that was surprising for one so unused to shopping. To Varric’s surprise, Cole found three different items that he had a hard time choosing between: a halla carving, ornate and rearing with flowers wrapped around its horns, one of the leather books they’d spotted when walking in and a set of paints. “All of these, huh, Kid?” Varric teased, but the boy looked so set on them that he couldn’t say no. After paying, the pair returned to Skyhold.

“So what’s going on between you and Lavellan?” Varric asked the slender blond as they sat back at his table in the throne room. “Solas asked if you were interested in girls and you said no, but here you are showering each other with gifts.”

“Solas asked if I was _interested_ in girls. I’m not. Not yet.” Cole stated, and Varric was about to argue before pausing and chuckling.

“I see what you mean.”

“There you are!” Both blonds looked over to see the alabaster elf standing, arms crossed over her chest and eyes filled with worry.  “ _Fenedhis lasa_ , I was worried!” She scolded. “Both of you take off without so much as a ‘by your leave’,” Era continued, hands now gesturing wildly. “And then out of the blue, you turn up like you’d never left!” Varric simply chuckled.

“Sorry, Red. We took a trip to Val Royeaux.” He explained, looking to Cole who gingerly fingered the satchel of items form Val Royeaux. “The Kid’s got something to give you. It might be better to do it privately.” The dwarf joked and Era tilted her head curiously, looking at the satchel Cole held.

“…All right, sure.” She said, gesturing for Cole to follow her to her quarters. “What is it you needed to give me?” The elf asked as they reached the top of her stairs, her breath coming in short huffs from the trip. Her room was beautiful, but she despised the climb.

The thin blond handed the bag over, silver-blue eyes avoiding her curious blue vitriol coloured ones as slender fingers fished the items out of the bag with child-like wonder. “Oh, _Cole_.” She said in a breathless whisper, both surprised and pleased at once. “You didn’t need to… Why did you?” She asked, finding herself unable to form a proper sentence as she evaluated the Dalish-made book.

“I wanted to give you something.” Cole paused. “I tried to give you something that meant a lot to me, like you did, but you didn’t want that.” Era giggled softly. “So we found something else.” The blond felt himself stumble back a step as thin arms flew around his torso, pulling him into a delighted hug. Cole found his hands resting on Era’s back, a pleased smile settling on his face.

“ _Ma serannas_ , Cole.” The Dalish woman whispered. “This means a lot to me.” The waifish boy only nodded, finding himself more enraptured in the hug than he likely should have been. His mind focused on the warmth that spread from her body and the gentle throbbing of her excited heart beating against her chest. He felt the loss of her warmth keenly as she withdrew from him with a sheepish smile, cheeks stained red. “Thank you.”  

The spirit nodded dumbly, still smiling.


	23. Archery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era shows Cole how to shoot a bow.

“Hey, did you see the Inquisitor outside?” An elven scout stood excitedly talking to a human soldier just below Cole.

“No, what’s she doing?” The male responded voice gravelly and filled with curiosity.

“She’s shooting a bow! Isn’t she a mage?” The elf asked. Her voice was higher and far softer than her companion’s.

“Yeah, but isn’t she Dalish? Most Dalish know how t’ shoot a bow, I heard.” The man responded matter-of-factly, but in fact, he had little idea outside of rumours shared among humans.

“Oh, now that can’t be true,” The elf responded. Beyond this Cole stopped listening as he passed through the nearby door to the battlements. He peered curiously over the ledge that overlooked the courtyard, seeing that the snowy elf indeed held a bow, firing at targets with practiced precision. He found himself watching as the white-haired elf quickly emptied her quiver into multiple targets before retrieving the arrows and starting anew.

The Dalish woman wiped her brow, turning to look up at the battlements and spotting Cole almost instantly. “Cole!” She greeted her voice quiet from distance. He climbed down to meet the young eld, looking at her bow curiously. “I learned to use a bow before I came into my magic.” the silvery-voiced elf said with a smile. “I never stopped practicing. It’s difficult to catch a hare with fireballs, after all.” She joked, and the blond found himself smiling. “I could show you if you wanted…” Era paused briefly. “Well, if you don’t already know, that is.”

“I don’t.” The boy answered, pausing to think over his words. “I don’t know how to use a bow, I mean.” The Inquisitor smiled, holding the bow and quiver out to the blond.

“Want to try?” She offered again. Gingerly, Cole took them from her and set the quiver on his shoulder. He knocked an arrow and fired it, clumsily, at the target. The arrow bounced off the canvas, flying backwards a short distance before hitting the ground with a quiet _clack,_ drawing a quiet giggle from the Dalish Inquisitor standing not far away.

“Here, let me help.” She offered, and he found the shorter woman positioning his feet to be perfectly parallel, facing away from the target before pressing herself flush to his back and reaching upward to turn his head slightly and moving his arms to be perfectly in line with each other. Three fingers rested on the bowstring while he cupped his hand in a firm ‘c’ around the grip. “Make sure both eyes are looking at where you want the arrow to go, if you look away, it’s likely the arrow will veer away from its target.” She instructed as she helped him properly knock another arrow, making sure his fingers rested back in position. “Good.” She said as he fired again, stronger this time.

The arrow hit the canvas and stuck this time, though on the outer edge of the circle. “Much better, see?” Gentle encouragement made him feel better that he’d hit the canvas properly that time even though he still missed his mark.

A few more shots produced the same result, hitting the edge of the target, but not the center. Era’s nose wrinkled a little as she thought, and she had Cole try again, carefully watching his arms. “I see what it is.” She said, and the boy found their illustrious leader flush to his back again, breasts easily felt through the thin fabric of her tunic. “You’re not keeping your arm straight when you fire, you drop it slightly and the arrow…” The rest of her instruction and adjustment was lost to the musings of the boy’s mind.

Cole could feel the gentle thrumming of her heart against her chest and the heat and softness of her small body. The feeling of her breasts against him briefly reminded him of the nobles at Halamshiral; the ones who thought about how soft they might be, and they weren’t wrong. He didn’t think of it the way the nobles had, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “…Cole?” The warmth from his back was gone and the elven woman had circled in front of him, ocean blue orbs staring at him curiously.

“Yes?” He answered, coming to his senses. He straightened his arms, looking to the target. Cole was thankful he heard enough to figure out what she needed him to do. Sucking in a breath, the blond knocked another arrow under Era’s careful watch, maintaining the position of his arms as he drew the bowstring back and fired again. The arrow hit right near the center of the target this time.

“Good!” Era cheered quietly, though she practically bounced from excitement. “You actually picked that up fairly quickly.” She said with a smile. “If you like, I could commission a bow from Dagna and Harritt so that you can practice on your own.” The snowy woman offered. He nodded, setting the bow down on a nearby crate.

The Dalish woman chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, and Cole found himself staring and remembering the kiss at the Winter Palace. Her lips were soft and sweet from the balm she kept on them—it was nice. He found his hand on her cheek, staring into the ocean coloured orbs before examining the rest of her face. Freckles dusted her pale cheeks and feathery strands of long, silky hair danced across her face with the breeze. Her face had a few scars, relatively small. One sat on the bridge of her nose, faint and easy to miss, another across her forehead, darker and more obvious and a thick one just above her lips. Era’s face flushed as his thumb brushed the scar above her lip, blue orbs darting away from his and back again.

“C-Cole?” She said gently, and the blond brushed the hair from her face with a small smile, vaguely aware of the feeling of his heart hammering against his chest. He released her gently, and the elf found herself gently nudging stones with her feet. “I’m-” Era’s voice caught, and she cleared her throat, cheeks still flushed. “I’m going to the mess hall, I haven’t eaten yet.” She said, bowing her head politely before jogging toward the main hall and leaving the boy behind.

When inside, Era ducked around the wall across from Varric’s usual haunt and slumped against it, sliding to the floor. “Mythal, what _was_ that?” She asked herself quietly, unsurprised as she looked over to see Varric approaching her.

“You okay, Inquisitor?” He asked. Era wasn’t sure how to answer.

“I- I don’t know.” She said, running her fingers through her bangs and pushing them back. “Cole’s been acting strange lately.”

“You mean stranger than usual?” The dwarf joked, and Era gave a hesitant laugh in response.

“I suppose. He’s been watching me more, and then just now he grabbed my face and just… looked at me.” Her face flushed again and she sighed. Varric responded with a chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure he’s head over heels for you, Red.” He said, and Era’s cheeks darkened further.

“ _Fenedhis lasa_! There’s no way!” She responded quickly.

“No?” Varric chuckled. “Why not?”

“There’s no way he could think like that, Varric.” Era sighed, burying her head in her hands. “He’s only just starting to become a person… He’s probably going off of something he found in my head and he wants to help but doesn’t understand.”

“Maferath’s balls he can’t.” Varric responded, shaking his head. “He’s not stupid. He saw how important that scarf was, and wanted to find something to give you that could be just as important because he _cares,_ not because he just wants to help.” He sighed when Era seemed unconvinced. “The Kid was jealous that Cullen kissed you, then was almost beside himself with guilt when you came back all messed up from that temple.” Era stared at Varric in disbelief, her eyes wide with surprise.

“That- that’s why he was angry?” She asked, her voice quiet. “He saw Cullen kiss me?”

“Shit.” Varric swore, rubbing his head. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that, but yeah. He beat himself up over it just before you came back from the temple, and then the well started doing weird shit to your head…” He shook his head again. “Anyway, yeah, I’m pretty sure the Kid _likes_ you.” Era groaned, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Elgar’nan, what am I going to do?” She asked.

“Talk to him?” Varric suggested with a shrug. “I don’t think avoiding it is going to help.” Era nodded mutely, sighing as she laid her head against the stone behind her.

“You might be right. I think I’m going to get something to eat and then think about it upstairs…” She said slowly, and bidding Varric farewell, Era made the long climb to her quarters.


	24. A Midnight Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era spends most of the night awake as she contemplates her feelings.

Era’s mind ate away at her most of the night, restless in its frantic search for answers. Her sheets lay discarded and messy on her bed, windows opened wide with cool night air rushing into the room and scattering paperwork from the desk. If any of it was important, she didn’t care.

Her heart and mind warred with each other with reckless abandon, firing trebuchets and burying each other under mountains of conflicting thoughts and feelings. None of it made any sense.  Era felt a close kinship with Cole. Like some of their friends, they were outsiders—Era, a “wildling” elf, and Cole, a spirit of Compassion turned human, both with a heaping helping of strange mannerisms. She remembered how fiercely protective she was of the blond spirit-boy any time a member of her inner circle spoke ill of him or suggested she toss him out.

“ _Tell that_ creature _—what does it call itself, Cole? Tell it to leave_.” She remembered Cassandra’s words just before the snowy wildling responded with a hard “no”. They had all been outsiders, the odd-one-out at one time or another. She would not throw the boy out, not without seeing him cause harm to an innocent first hand.

But the harm never came, at least, not to them—Cole delighted in helping the Inquisition, helping others and killing those who would hurt the young Inquisitor or her companions. He read Dalish stories with her and listened to Cassandra reading her book aloud, kept his distance from those who didn’t want his help and helped those who he could without hurting more. The snowy elf painfully recalled the promise she’d made to Cole after Adamant, the boy frantic after their adventure into the Fade and the blood magic they witness beforehand. “ _If I become a demon, you’ll stop me? You’ll kill me_?” When she’d started to protest, the blond had shakily taken her hands, wild blue eyes staring into hers with a pleading “ _Please_!” leaving his lips.

Era had agreed, if shakily. She didn’t want to kill him, but neither could she stand the idea of a Venatori bending Cole to their will, uncaring for his feelings, his gentle nature, and turning him into a mindless monster. “ _No one gets hurt because of me, please_ ,” For days Era couldn’t look at Cole without feeling guilt about her agreement to kill him; it was the right thing to do, but it hurt her, caused her to ache all over.

She hadn’t understood at the time why she felt so sad over the promise she made. It gave Cole peace of mind and made the others feel better about her ability to put him down if he became a demon, but it made her feel sick. The entire time she’d known the boy, he’d done nothing but help the hurting, the helpless, and kill the killers; those that would hurt people, hurt her and her companions. Cole’s entire purpose, his reason for being, was helping.

Era had given it no special attention when Cole eventually turned his attention to her, when she had hurts that needed healing. She was, after all, the Inquisitor: the woman on whom the lives of all Thedas depended on. But Cole’s presence now wasn’t entirely for helping. He stayed with her to listen to her stories, gave gifts and shared laughter where he didn’t before. He was human now, and could help and hear less than before, what was his purpose in being with her now?

Era was slowly coming to realize that Varric was right, something she’d likely known all along. Cole wasn’t an idiot, he was anything but. His words, his actions were often the result of careful contemplation. Everything Cole knew he had learned over a very short period of time. Even as a spirit he’d known more than Era would have thought to give him credit for. He deserved the respect of being asked, rather than thought of as some tiny child incapable of understanding what he felt.

The snowy maiden was wholly unsurprised when the blond came quietly up her stairs, as if called. Era looked toward Cole with an unmoving, curious stare and slowly, she spoke: “You like me.” She stated gently, watching the waifish boy’s face. Slowly, he nodded.

“Yes.” He confirmed, his voice equally light, though more breathy as he puffed from climbing the long staircase to her quarters. Era didn’t need to ask if he understood what she meant, the look in his eyes said as much. The tall once spirit approached the Inquisitor, a large hand gently brushing her freckled cheek. The elf sighed and closed her eyes, though she leaned against the touch gently.

“Your eyes tell me you understand, but there’s no way you could…” She said quietly, trying to convince herself more than Cole. “Cole, I’m- I’m not worthy of such affections.” Era couldn’t stop the sadness that seeped into her voice. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t protect my family, and so much rests on me now…” Her voice trailed, sorrow sounding through the sweet lilt of her Dalish accent. To her surprise, Cole chuckled softly and cupped the cheek he’d brushed, using his thumb to wipe away a tear she hadn’t felt from her face.

 “You can’t save everyone, Era.” He whispered softly. “You can put the bodies down, they aren’t angry. They want you to be happy, and so do I.” More tears stained the Dalish woman’s cheeks and her lip quivered. Before long, she found herself wailing into Cole’s shirt. “Shit.” He swore, surprising Era with his language. “I tore it, didn’t I? You’re crying, I didn’t—I tore the tangle and made it worse-” Before Cole could continue, the shorter woman gently pulled him down, silencing his words with the warmth of a salty, berry flavoured kiss. Cole’s hands found Era’s waist, holding her there gently and fervidly returning the kiss as their eyes fell closed.

Fen’Harel take her, Era hadn’t realized just how much she loved him. The loved the time they spent reading stories, the silly questions he asked and the way he took things literally. She loved his shaggy blonde hair and those haunting blue eyes of his, the way he laughed and smiled when they were with friends, all of it. She wondered if she had always felt this way and been the last to see it, or if it was a recent development. She didn’t care.

All that mattered at that moment was Cole, but her fear of falling to Corypheus wormed its way into her mind and brought a shiver to her spine. She wondered if it would hurt Cole to let him in only for her to fall to the darkspawn magister in their inevitable battle.

“You realize I might die soon, right?” The elf whispered as they broke apart, her cheeks tinted red. Cole pressed his forehead to hers gently.

“You won’t.” He stated, drawing an airy laugh from Era.

“Oh? I won’t?” She teased, resting her marked hand on his cheek. “How not, All-Knowing-Cole?” The blond chuckled.

“I don’t know, it just feels that way.” He whispered and Era giggled.

“ _Fenedhis_ , we’ve jinxed it by now.” With a sigh, the slender elf dropped herself on her bed. “You realize we can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

“About what?” Cole replied curiously, sitting on the bed beside Era.

“I- hm.” Era sighed softly, running her slender fingers through loose strands of her hair. “I… What do you want from this?” She asked. “I mean, a relationship or something else…?”

“…What else is there?” The once spirit asked, causing Era’s cheeks to tint a pretty red.

“Never mind, that was a silly thing to say. I don’t think it’s something either of us want or need, right now at least.” She said, shaking her head. Gingerly, she reached over and held Cole’s larger hand, running her thumb over his fingers.  “The relationship bit though, that can be whatever you want.” She said with a smile. “Kisses, hugs, stories, dealing with a mopey elf…” She listed, giggling when the boy leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not even sure if you understand relationships, let alone whether you want one.”

“Shh.” The blond replied, kissing her forehead again. “I _don’t_ understand it, but I want to _try_.” Era nodded mutely, yawning as her body caught up with her tired mind. Cole chuckled. “You’re very tired.” He stated, brushing hair from her eyes. The Inquisitor giggled again, stretching her whole body.

“I am.” She replied, another yawn escaping her lips. “Do you want to rest here with me?” Era pulled her thick blankets over herself as she spoke, hugging her pillow and looking over at the tall blond. Cole looked pensive for a time before finally nodding and settling in beside the lithe woman, gently resting a large arm over her side and hugging gently. The slender elf gave a contented sigh, allowing Cole time to get comfortable before drifting into blissful sleep.


	25. Doom Upon All the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Era finds herself facing Corypheus sooner than expected.

“His dragon must come and go from _somewhere_ ,” Cullen stated. Her advisors had been back almost two weeks, though most of the Inquisition’s forces were still wrapping up in the Arbor Wilds. Some soldiers chased down the Red Templars while others were tasked with scouting enemy movements and transporting wounded and dead.

Josephine looked over her clipboard before looking to Cullen. “What about the Deep Roads?” She offered. “We could send word to Orzammar, hire envoys to—” Her voice was stopped by the distant sound of an explosion. Energy from the Breach pushed against their windows and Era’s mark glowed before crackling painfully. She hissed, realizing Corypheus had once again opened the Breach. The advisors exchanged confused glances.

“Corypheus.” The elven woman breathed, eyes staring intensely at the glowing hole so perfectly seen from the war room’s windows. The Breach’s light pulsed with blinding light every few heartbeats, green light pouring into the room.

“ _He_ did that? But why?” Leliana asked, unable to mask her incredulity. Era shook her head. “Why” didn’t matter.

“Either I close the Breach again, or it swallows the world.”  She said grimly, watching through the window as the Breach pulsed and hummed with angry energy. Josephine paled, looking between the Inquisitor and the other advisors.

“But that’s madness!” She cried. “Wouldn’t it kill him as well?” The three advisors exchanged worried, knowing glances. To say they looked uncomfortable would be an understatement.

“Inquisitor, we’ve no forces to send with you.” Cullen started. “We must wait for them to return from the Arbor Wilds.” Era shook her head again. She couldn’t wait for them to return—if she didn’t leave now the Breach would tear the world asunder.

“I have to go _now_.” She stated, grunting as the Anchor pulsed and flashed on her hand, sending a shooting pain up her arm. “We’re dead if I don’t. Send Scout Harding with the fastest of our remaining scouts to meet us at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”  Era turned to leave the war room, and none of her advisors moved to stop her. She was right, after all.

There was time enough to grab a few of her companions, and she immediately thought of Cole, but the spirit was in her room, still asleep. She sighed as she realized bringing him down would raise suspicion, and as she reached the throne room, her eyes fell on Varric.

The dwarf was pacing anxious near his desk, undoubtedly having noticed the Breach had re-opened. “Varric.” Era called as she approached. “Get your gear and get to the gate, we move to fight Corypheus.”

“Shit!” He swore, running worried fingers through his hair. “I knew this was going to be bad. I’ll meet you at the gates, Red.” And with that, Varric tore off to find his armor and Era passed through the doorway beside Varric’s desk into the rotunda.

“Solas.” She greeted, and the elder elf turned to look toward her.

“Hello.” He returned. Somehow, the bald man was already prepared. He wore his fur-lined robes, mail over his right arm and left leg and his silverite staff was slung over his shoulder. Era found herself chuckling quietly.

“I see you’re all set, then,” She said, glad the older man wasn’t as panicked as poor Varric. “Meet us at the gates, I suspect Cassandra will likely be ready as well.” She instructed, and with a nod, Solas was gone.  Era passed back through the door to the rotunda and went through the front door of the main keep, jogging down the stairs toward Cassandra’s usual place behind the tavern. Era was glad she’d put most of her armor on before attending the meeting with her advisors, and her staff almost never left her side.

She spotted the Nevarran warrior exactly where she was expected to be: in full armor, sword swinging at the practice dummies before her. The brunette turned to face Era as she approached. “I take it we are to fight Corypheus?” The Seeker asked and Era nodded.

“Yes. He tore the Breach open, likely to get my attention.” She managed a smile. “Lucky for him, he has it.” The Seeker managed to chuckle at the joke, shaking her head as she sheathed her sword and slung her shield over her back.

 With a short bow, the Seeker strode toward the front gates while Era sought out their mounts. She jumped from the ledge just above the healer’s tents, landing with a quiet grunt before jogging the rest of the way to the stables at the back wall.

Era collected their mounts, leading the quartet of strange creatures up to Skyhold’s gates where her companions waited anxiously. She took the time they had as they mounted to explain her plan—they would meet Corypheus at the Breach and injure him enough to call his dragon forth, but not kill him—Era would call her dragon to fight the Red Lyrium dragon, hopefully killing it, and they would kill Corypheus while his ability to change bodies was interrupted.

As she spurned her horse forward, she cast a final glance at Skyhold, praying to the Creators that they defeat Corypheus so that she may return.

* * *

 

Cole woke over an hour after Era’s departure, his eyes immediately falling to the Breach— he shuddered, covering his head with his arms in a desperate attempt to drown it out. _The Breach is too loud, too bright and everyone is scared, despairing, but through it… hopeful?_ He forced himself to sit up and his eyes fell to the place where Era normally hung her armor—it was empty. Cole stood, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he ran to the balcony to his left. He couldn’t see Scout Harding or Cassandra and a cloud of fear hung over the remainder of the keep.

Cole had been left behind, he realized. Era had gone to seal the Breach and she had left without him, saying nothing. A bitter pit settled in his stomach. At first, he figured Era had little time for goodbyes before she needed to leave, and thus she spent her time preparing, but a darker, more frightening thought took hold of him.

_She’s forgotten you._ A small voice in his head told him, forcing him to remember how Pharamond and Adrian forgot him entirely and even Evangeline struggled to keep her memories. It happened to everyone he met, all save Rhys and Wynne. He wasn’t real, and thus he didn’t stick in anyone’s mind. Era had left him because she’d forgotten.

“No.” Cole found himself speaking out loud and he refused to give in to the voice. Era saw him, she remembered, she _loved_ him. Cole couldn’t forget that. He slid on his armor, quickly running down from Era’s quarters into the throne room.

It was only when several bewildered guests looked at Cole that he remembered he was meant to be discrete about coming and going from Era’s room so often—people had thought her and Dorian lovers not long ago and even that had made things awkward, it was difficult to imagine what the keep would think of a potential demon being Era’s partner. Cole managed to shake off his unease from the stares of the noble guests as he strode into the antechamber where Josephine sat, writing as she always was.

Today she looked crestfallen, worried—her mind went through all the letters she would need to write if Era died fighting Corypheus. “Can I help you?” She asked before looking up and spotting Cole. “Oh.” She breathed an airy laugh, surprised to see the blond before her desk. “It’s only you, Cole. Whatever is the matter?” She asked.

“Where’s Era?” He asked, forgetting to use the Inquisitor’s honorific and not her name. Josephine had the same look as the nobility, confused, but her smile fell and she shook her head.

“The Inquisitor left with Seeker Pentaghast, Varric and Solas over an hour ago,” She said sadly. “To fight Corypheus. Bull and the others left not long ago.” She paused. “They were looking for you, but no one could find you.” Cole felt his cheeks burn and he looked away uncomfortably. “They’re at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, you may find them if you leave now.” He nodded numbly, turning and finding his way out of the antechamber.

_They didn’t forget_. He reminded himself as he strode toward the stables. He found his mount, but decided on something faster—he took one of Era’s harts, having Dennet saddle it before mounting it and riding it to the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. When he arrived, he saw the ruin had been fractured, lifted from the ground and was now floating near the Breach—he could see dragons above, screeching and howling as they fought. He recognized the great green dragon, Mythal’s guardian, and Corypheus’s Red Lyrium dragon as they soared, crashing against rock and ruin. The green dragon soared straight up, allowing the black dragon to follow close behind before it stilled its wings, falling back and landing directly on its foe.

The great beasts scrapped as they fell, each struggling to maintain control of the battle, but ultimately the Red Lyrium dragon slammed Mythal’s guardian into the stone below. The Red Lyrium dragon managed to maintain its footing on the rock, but the guardian was not so fortunate—it bounced, hard off the rock and fell into the valley to its death.

The ground shook around Cole and the hart reared eyes wide with fear. He soothed the gentle creature, staring at the rocks above as he tried to think of a way up.  Most of the ruin was too high up or too far flung for him to reach from the ground—that worried him more than anything. _If she’s up there, how will she get down?_

Cole spotted a part of the floating cliffs that was flush with the top of the snow covered top of the mountain, and seeing his chance, he spurned his mount toward it. As he climbed, he could hear the sounds of fighting and feel the heat of Red Lyrium—the song reverberated inside him, buzzing and whispering things once lost. He climbed off his mount, patting her soft nose gently. “Go home, to Skyhold.” He said gently, stroking her fur. “Do you think you can do that?” The hart looked contemplative somehow. She snorted and wiggled her ears and slowly started to trot away, casting a look behind her before galloping back the way they came. “Good, she will be safer.” He said, looking to the stone island before him.

Cole grabbed a piece of the crumbled brick, hoisting himself onto the island before trekking his way across it before leaping from the edge of the first island to the next. The closer Cole got to the fighting, the more his heart clenched and leapt in his chest. _She’s scared, so scared, afraid of failing, falling to fear and darkness, it’ll be for nothing if she dies here. What will happen when she’s gone?_

Cole reached the platform where Era had been fighting not long ago, the Red Lyrium dragon lay dead before him. He heard Corypheus, a deep, booming voice that mocked Era—mocked her people. He quivered uncontrollably, looking up to the platform where he could see the flash of spells being cast, hear the crackle of lightning and the angry magister’s booming voice over all. Cole knelt down, head in his hands. The song of the Red Lyrium rang through him, whispering in his mind, and he could feel Corypheus—cold, corrupt and full of anger and ambition. It was too much, too much—he had to pull himself together.  With a breath, Cole stood again, hands on his daggers as he ascended the stairs to the balcony above where Era clashed against the ancient magister.

Immediately, Corypheus’ gaze turned to the once spirit as he reached the platform where Era fought alone against Corypheus. “You dare come before me demon?” The booming voice asked, with a tinge of amusement at Cole’s arrival. “I will bind you as I have bound so many before!” The Inquisitor turned to find Cole with panicked blue eyes.

“COLE! Get out of here!” She cried, and Cole saw a smirk spread across Corypheus’ lips as he started his binding attempt.  “No!” She shouted again, throwing bolts of lightning in a desperate attempt to stop the ancient mage. She was terrified for him, the once spirit realized, almost regretting that he found his way up there. If he was bound there by Corypheus it would break her. He wouldn't let it happen.

“No.” Cole said simply. A red light pulsed and flashed around them, emanating from the orb. Cole shuddered as the waves reached him, but his mind rebelled against the whispers and the energy halted. The binding failed and he drew his daggers. “I am no demon… and you are no god!” The magister seemed unamused by the result.

“Then die with the others.” Corypheus growled, clawed fingers reaching out to strike Era, knocking her back and leaving crimson trails in their wake. The elven woman stumbled back, falling on her backside and flinging angry spells at the monster but she would _not_ be kept down.

Cole watched, daggers drawn as Era flung herself back onto her feet and staff in hand she charged at Corypheus, flourishing her staff to slash the center of his chest with her staff blade. The ancient darkspawn stumbled back, grabbing his chest and roaring in anger and Cole took the opportunity to bare his daggers into Corypheus’ back.

Bloodied, the magister slowed, and Era charged up another lightning spell, brutally frying her enemy. She watched with angry eyes as Corypheus sank to his knees and she snatched the orb from him. Her mark flickered and crackled as she handled the artifact that bestowed it upon her. With a gesture, Era used her anchor and the orb to seal the Breach with a bolt of blinding green light. Her body quivered as the energy overwhelmed her, bright, hot and growing hotter the longer she held it.

The Breach drew closed and Era dropped the burning orb with a quiet his, angrily approaching the weakened magister. The ground beneath their feed shuddered and shook, rocks suspended by the Breach grumbling and falling around them. “You wanted into the Fade?” She growled, holding her hand in front of him. It flickered with bright, angrily light and she forcibly opened a Rift inside him, pulling Corypheus into the Fade from the inside.

Before Era could do anything else, Cole sheathed his daggers and threw his arms around the slender elf, burying his face in her neck. She let out an airy laugh, returning the hug. Her eyes are sparkling with happiness—she was lighter, weight lifted from her shoulders. “I thought you forgot about me,” Cole whispered quietly, and Era laughed again, a bit more quietly. The pair started as the rock beneath them gave a violent shake and pillars crumbled around them. Era dived out of the way of one such pillar, pulling Cole with her.

“Mythal’enaste, the whole thing is collapsing!” She cried, and soon, the island came crashing to the ground with an earth-shattering crash. Era groaned as they hit the ground, looking around her in a daze. She spotted Cole, thanking the Creators that they were both in one piece. She stood, shakily, helping Cole up as Solas jogged into the ruin—he spotted the orb immediately, but it had been shattered by the fall. Whatever magic had been within was lost.

“The orb,” He whispered sadly, and Era made quiet apologies. If they hadn’t been separated, perhaps Solas could have saved the orb where she couldn’t. “It is not… _your_ fault.” He assured her; the look in his eyes told Era there was something else.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” She asked the crestfallen elder elf.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Solas said, his shoulders sagging. “No matter what comes, I want you to know you shall always have my respect.” He said solemnly. Era was distracted by the rest of her companions appearing at the edge of the ruin. The breakage had thrown Cassandra, Varric and Solas from Era and left her to fight on her own—but they remained in the valley with the others.

“Inquisitor! Are you alive?” She heard the Nevarran Seeker call, and Era strode to the edge of the ruin, seeing the cluster of her remaining companions approach, bloodied, but victorious. Cassandra looked perplexed as Era appeared with Cole behind her, but the relief that spread across the faces of her inner circle was noticeable. “Thank the Maker.” Cassandra sighed happily. One of the few happy conclusions in a long line of tragedies.

“The sky is healed, healthy… whole,” Cole said, looking to where the Breach had once been. “And there’s just that left to remember.” He gestured to the shimmering streaks of light that danced among the clouds where the Breach had been just minutes ago.

“It looks that way.” The Inquisitor agreed.

“What do we do now?” Cassandra asked. The Breach was sealed but there was still much that needed to be done to help Thedas recover from Corypheus. Era thought for a moment, casting a glance to where Solas had been behind her, but he had vanished. She had considered Solas a good friend and worthy of her respect, and while she wondered where he had gone in so short a time, she couldn’t bring herself to give it more than a few moments thought. Their victory brought a smile to her face and she looked to her companions.

“We return to Skyhold.”


	26. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sky healed, Era and her inner circle have time to celebrate and relax.

As Era and her inner circle had travelled back to Skyhold, she’d needed to take a few days rest in the Valley of Sacred Ashes. Her wounds from the battle hadn’t affected her at first, but the pain grew as they marched and she needed to heal herself and rest as her energy returned.

When they finally did return to Skyhold, the celebration was great: everyone in the courtyard hooted and cheered as she passed, and Josephine had practically wheeled Era away to dress her for a party.

Era found herself in the middle of the throne room in a dress so long she was surprised she’d yet to fall on her face. They’d elected to give her ornate foot wraps, much to her relief and had styled her hair the same way they had when she attended the ball at the Winter Palace.

The dress was lovely, and while it was longer than she liked, she preferred it to the one from the ball. It was far more modest and was made from a very soft navy coloured silk. The neckline was decorated with an ornate silver lining and a light chain belt made from engraved silver hung loosely around her waist.

Era’s heart fell slightly as her eyes set upon their red-headed spymaster. She heard Leliana would be leaving them to assume her position as Divine Victoria soon, and she hated to see her go. Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine stood not far from Era’s throne where she spent the first part of the party, observing the celebrations in quiet contemplation as she had a few glasses of wine.

Eventually, she found herself mingling, talking to Cassandra about her plan to rebuild the seekers, to Leliana about her plans for the mages and thanking Josephine for the party, even if she still felt she would trip on her dress.

Era eventually found her way to the table Iron Bull and Dorian shared with the Chargers. Dorian was flushed with wine and intended to stay with the Inquisition for the foreseeable future. Tevinter lacked the presence of his lover and best friends, thus he decided it could keep just a little longer. Bull would remain as well, likely longer than Dorian as the Inquisition had become his home since being branded Tal-Vashoth.

Toward the back of the hall, nearest to the main door, were Cullen and Blackwall. Cullen was relieved that there was finally time to breathe from his usual duties and Blackwall was glad to have an end to the beast that destroyed the Grey Wardens. She knew they would stay so long as she wanted them there, and she had no intention to send them away.

Era had purposely visited the table that seated Sera, Cole and Varric last. She had seen the looks the latter pair had cast her from across the room, wanting to see her, and she found herself smirking when they finally resigned themselves to being last. “Finally.” Varric chuckled when Era approached. “I’ve been starting to think about putting all of this into a book.  Right now, I’m thinking: _This Shit Is Weird: The Inquisitor Lavellan Story_.” Era laughed. “…It’s a working title.” He added.

“I’m glad you’ll be writing.” The snow-haired elf responded with a grin. Varric shrugged.

“Well, nothing’s certain until it’s in print.” He replied, shaking his head. “I still haven’t decided if I should even do this book, like anyone’s going to believe this story if I tell it.” Varric paused, eyes contemplative. “Not to mention, I’ll have my hands full with reconstruction and relief efforts in the Free Marches as soon as I get back.” He admitted; Era’s heart dropped again and her smile fell. Varric caught it right away, adding: “I’m not leaving for a while yet, though, we’ll have to get in at least one game of Wicked Grace before I leave.” He chuckled. “Curly needs to win some of his dignity back.” Era nodded, and after a brief conversation, she found herself skirting around Cole to talk to Sera, smirking again as he tried to grab her sleeve when she passed.

After telling Sera she was welcome to stay, Era standing in front of the blond assassin, practically grinning from ear to pointed ear. “Why were you avoiding me?” He asked sadly, and Era giggled.

“I was saving the best for last.” She cooed, smiling at the flush that rose to the once spirit’s cheeks.

“Oh.” He responded in soft surprise. “So many people died. More are still hurting. They need help, it seems wrong to celebrate.” He said quietly, his eyes were looking toward his feet that dangled off the edge of the table. Cole glanced up, his eyes falling on Era’s face and he found himself smiling. “But… I want to. The part of me that’s me needs to, after all this.” Era found herself grinning again, wider if possible. “The servants are drinking, some are drinking while laying down.” The elf tilted her head curiously, realization hitting her moments later.

“Oh.” She said with an airy laugh. “Do you have any interest in joining them?” She joked. Cole’s face flushed again, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He said quietly, uncertain of how to answer. “…Not now. It makes things more complicated and I’m not ready.” He admitted, Era laughed again.

“No matter, Cole, I was only joking.” She said gently, she touched his cheek gently. “Corypheus tried to bind you. You shouldn’t have come after me.” her voice was softer, sad and filled with worry but Cole smiled.

“But it _failed_.” He said, eyes bright. “He tried to bind me and it failed! Did you see it? Did you see me?” He was suddenly very much like one of the young mages she helped her Keeper train whenever they started a small, controlled fire. “Demons are bound when you tell them what they are so loudly that it’s all they can hear. They have to be what you want.” He said, still smiling. “But I know who I am now! I am me, thanks to you.” Era laughed, worry evaporating from her.

“You did it yourself, Cole.” She said with a smile.

“Maybe I did.” He said quietly. “What will happen next?” He asked. “Where do we go?” Era shrugged.

“Right now, we celebrate. We remind each other, and the world, that we’re alive.” She said happily.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

* * *

 

After what felt like years of celebrating and drinking, Era found an opportunity to slip away from the party and return to her room. She was happy, more than happy, that she was alive, that the world was safe, but she was _so_ tired. As she reached the door to her chambers, Cole gently grasped one of her sleeves. “You’re leaving?” He asked gently. “I thought you wanted to celebrate. The battle is over, everyone is joyous, joking, spirits freed from the cloud of despair that held them. This is what you wanted.” Era laughed, taking Cole’s hand and gently leading him through the door. Her face was flushed from drinking, but she wasn’t out of her mind just yet.

“I did want to celebrate, but it’s too much for me.” She said with a smile as she led him up the long flight of stairs. “Now, I wouldn’t mind simply relaxing.” Cole nodded, following her. Most of the trek up the stairs was filled with silence save for the silent huffing and puffing of their tired breath and the padding of feet against the stone.

Once they stood in the middle of Era’s room, Cole cupped her freckled face gently and pulled her into a kiss. Era eagerly returned it, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I was scared, so scared that you’d left me behind because you’d _forgotten_.” He said once they’d pulled apart, staring into her eyes. “Before I knew what I was, I hated it… Rhys was the only one who remembered. I saw the mages in the Spire, they had friends, people they cared about, couldn’t lose… I wanted it too.”

Cole pulled Era into a hug, her head against his chest. “I thought I was a ghost, that I would fade away forever and I would never _know_. But you made me real, and I do know. Sometimes it’s worse than being a spirit, everything sticks and sometimes things hurt like daggers in my stomach… But sometimes it’s better, like this _. Stomach flutters like a thousand butterflies, heart warm like a soft blanket and full, whole._ ”

Era smiled, breaking away from the embrace and walking to the balcony. Cole followed, and she took his hand gently as she watched the lights dance where the Breach had once loomed angrily over them. "There's much left to do, but I'm glad I'll have you at my side." Era said, squeezing the hand she held and leaving them in silence for a time. “I love you.” She whispered after a while, leaning to rest her head against Cole’s shoulder. The blond chuckled, running his fingers through a loose piece of her hair.

“I love you too.” He replied, once again leaving them in silence as they watched the lights that danced across the sky.


End file.
